his office, 2005
I came to see my grandpa in Poland because he had developed Alzheimer’s and it happened quickly and he was probably going to die in the next week. The first day I was there, we talked and hugged a lot and he spoke really lucidly so I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. He seemed so enthusiastic about everything and had his charming sharp memory. The next day we woke up and his eyes started getting shifty and his enthusiasm was more erratic, even though he was able to hold conversations, he would get distracted. “Oh wow, look at that pattern on the window curtain, it’s so bright,” he would say, go up to it and fixate his gaze. I started crying, and I would hold him and tug on his shoulders. Then in the evening I realized he hadn’t eaten so I tried to bring some food into his room and he was laying all twisted on his bed in his pajamas saying he cannot eat anymore, the pain is too strong and he doesn’t think he will be able to eat again but it’s okay because he can have water. I wasn’t sure how long a person can survive without food, but I thought maybe something like a week if they just keep drinking liquids. I was trying not to break down in front of him so I ran out and cried in my room the rest of the night until the morning. I went back in as soon as the sun came up with my puffy eyes to make sure he was still alive. He looked even more indistinguishable but I tried to make him laugh, and say all those silly idioms we shared between us. He would laugh, missing all his bottom teeth because he stopped putting in his dentures. I don’t really remember the rest of the dream, but I remember each day seemed to drag on (in the dream) because as it was happening it was all going by too fast. I don’t know too much about Alzheimer’s because my grandpa died on blood poisoning, from a variety of reasons but particularly because as a dentist he had the ability to over-medicate himself. He died three days before I was supposed to fly to Poland to take care of him in 2005.
A photo of mine is in the Wychwood Barns Fundraiser Gala on April 15, but because there are many people involved and they want to maximize the donations no one is given a free pass and the tickets are 75$ so I am obviously not going. I wish I could go, the Wychwood Barns are one of my favorite places in Toronto. We might be given a discount on tickets, I don’t remember, but either way, anything higher than 0 is above my government loaned budget. I hope my photo sells because then maybe I can make a little bit of money, or at least pay back the printing and frame costs. My parents have never been on vacation since we moved to Canada 20 years ago. My parents cannot even afford my dad going back. Yes, I go back a lot, because of legal dealings and because I have attempted to set up my life so I can. I cannot imagine not being able to travel, not being able to go anywhere outside my small radius of Southern Ontario. This summer I want to sell off many of my things (even though I have so little extraneous shit) because I feel stifled and suffocated and immobilized by them. Ok, maybe most of the furniture I will put in some sort of storage space because it’s stupid to sell something you will need again, but it still has a similar effect!
Too much restlessness and anxiety make for a badly focussed Magda and I need to get this paper done by tonight no matter what.
