Heartbroken

My grandmother is dying. She has Alzheimer's among several other diseases, and after having her health slowly decline over the last five years, she has recently progressed to sleeping almost 24 hours a day and is barely eating or drinking. She was placed in hospice care over the weekend, and every time my phone rings or I find an email in my inbox, I'm expecting to get the news that she has passed.

My grandmother and I have had a horrible relationship; she verbally and emotionally abused me almost daily as a child for over 4 years. When my parents found out what was happening, they took me out of daily contact with her, and I don't think she has ever forgiven me for that. I wasn't able to really talk about what had happened with my mom until college five years later, and I couldn't even truly talk to my dad about it until my second year of medical school almost ten years after it all ended. After all, it was his mother, and I felt that if I told him the truth of what had happened, I'd be forcing him to choose between his mother and his child. I finally realized one day that he had already made that choice long ago and that as my daddy, he will always be on my side and be my protector when he can. I have continued to see my grandmother over the years, and with God's help, I have been able to forgive her. I can now look at her with pity, realizing what a rough life she had and what led her to the life she lived. I don't condone how she treated me or other family members, but I am able to understand and to forgive as I have been forgiven.

I tried so hard to be anything but her, but I became scared when I observed some of the negative traits she carried coming to life in me. I used to be extremely demanding, informing family, friends, boyfriends, and anyone around me how things had to be done the right way, my way. I would get mad and blow up at people for little things that didn't deserve such a reaction. I tried so hard to be anything but her that I was becoming the very thing I hated. I cried countless tears over the years as I faced up to my shortcomings and to my past, and with God's help, I faced the problems head-on and let go of so many of the painful pieces of my past. I don't know if I will ever be totally free of what happened as certain things still bring an ache when they come to mind, but I am free of my chains of captivity. My family tells me that I am a completely changed woman compared to six years ago, so having the ones who know me the best confirm the work that He has done in my heart makes the journey worthwhile.

My grandmother professes Christ. I truly do believe that she is saved, and I look forward to seeing her again one day, whole and healed from the bodily afflictions she's now enduring. I used to think that when she died, I wouldn't cry, that all my tears would have already been shed. Getting the email on Monday that she had been placed into hospice care showed me just how wrong I was; I sobbed as soon as I finished reading it. I know that it was just one more small sign that God is still working in me.

My heart is so heavy now. I weep for my grandmother and all the pain she endured in her life -- losing her father at age 3 to appendicitis, likely abuse at the hands of her relatives as she was passed around the family since her mom couldn't care for her, losing her firstborn daughter to mumps at age 4 ... the list goes on. I ache for my grandfather; he has spent over 60 years of his life with her, so will he be able to live now without her? I ache for my father and his siblings; imperfect as she is, she is still their only mom. I ache for myself; I never truly expected to have a conversation with her about why things happened the way they did, but I feel that there is a piece of our story that won't be complete until the next life when God will have wiped away all tears and none of this will matter anymore.

I will soon likely be making my first trip back to Houston since moving up here for residency over a year ago. I wish it weren't under these circumstances. My husband has been out of town since Monday morning, but I think the tone of my voice told him today just how much I am struggling right now and how much I need him here because he changed his flight to come back Thursday instead of Friday. I am glad that my feelings are those of sadness and love rather than of anger and hatred. God truly can work miracles.