When my grandma sleeps, her mouth shuts and stretches down into a deep frown, not angry or sad, but skull-like, somehow. During these times, I stand by her bed and watch her chest, making sure it rises and falls, because I'm terrified she could end up dying. That's my worst fear. That she'll pass away on my watch. That I'll be the one to discover her dead. At night, I have the baby monitor on, and I can't sleep, listening to the static, because I'm so worried about what I'll hear.
I'm not sure how aware she is that she's dying. Sometimes, she seems to think she'll recover. But there are hints she knows. She told me, just today, that she wants to be cremated in her favorite green jacket with the names of all her grandchildren. I don't know how I feel yet. I haven't really sat down and tried to express it. I feel like I have to soothe everyone and be strong. I don't mind this. I know everyone is okay for me to cry and break down, but I don't feel ready to do it, not yet.
I have been lazy this week, which probably has something to do with me being stressed. On Wednesday and Thursday, I sat and watched all 54 episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. It was an awesome series, and I tend to easily get addicted to good stories. But I think, in this case, I let myself get addicted, because it serves as an escape. My mind gets obsessed with something, allowing me to detatch from the frustrating or overwhelming aspects of life. I've been feeling the need to detatch a lot lately, and I'm not sure why.
Anyway, be warned if, in the weeks to come, some of my blogs revolve around Avatar.