Awake

In Dependence

I live with my 87- (next month 88) year-old grandpa. I live with him because it is free and I could not afford to live on my own while I transplanted my life and got my business(es) off the ground. I agreed to live with him (and ultimately move down here) because my grandpa is (or should I say, "was") very independent and able to take care of his own needs.

Enter Summer.

Ah, Southern Oregon Summers. A delightful thing. I really do love the weather down here. I actually have a tan of sorts. (For you folks up north, a "tan" is the darkening of your skin that occurs when your skin is exposed to the rays of the "sun".)

At 3355, we water the lawn via an irrigation pump. This pump hadn't been fired up since last summer and the first time that Grandpa ventured into the garage to bring out the hoses for the pump—about 3 weeks ago—the weed eater attacked his arm and tore 85% of his paper-thin skin off the extensor side of his forearm. Luckily, he didn't require a skin graft.

Forearm on the mend, Grandpa went to work on the pump again this past weekend. First he lifted something and heard a "pop" in his low back. Then, a while later, he sat down hard on the ground and I think his hip and low back muscles protectively spasmed as a result. The next morning he sat on the edge of his bed waiting for me to get up and asked me to bring in the walker. The morning after that, he asked for the wheelchair.

3355 is a small house with narrow hallways and tight corners. So he can't get everywhere in the house in the wheelchair. So now I'm fetching toothbrushes and razors and filling basins and making ice packs and and emptying things I did not want to be emptying.

Today, a work day, was not a day to produce any work. Instead it was a day of fetching and emptying and wheeling and driving and doctor's appointment-ing. (And blogging.)

I struggle with this new role—a role that I do not wish to adopt and I struggle with the implications of Grandpa's slow-down and wonder how to ride this transitional wave with as much grace and compassion as I can without forfeiting my own life in the process. I have spent a year building two businesses and am ready to continue on this path. But will this bump in the road derail me? And what will it mean for Grandpa as well?