It's been a week and a half here at my grandparent's house in Louisiana so far and I haven't written at all because I didn't want to completely unload to the world and sound like a horribly depressed Eeyore (this is the correct spelling. I had to look it up!). Then during a talk with my mom on the phone about everything, she said what great material this would be for writing, and suddenly it all seemed so funny! She's right! I really must share.
Well, I have definitely decided to go skydiving when I get old. I have always said that I would, because then if the parachute didn't open, it wouldn't be a massive loss. But now I am determined to do it and if I live through that, I will do every adventurous activity I can think of until something finally works. This isn't to say that I will try to kill myself once I reach the age of 80. I just do not see the silly point in being careful with my aging body at that point in my life in order to draw out my life to it's smallest dregs. I definitely do not want to end up like my poor grandpa who basically just sits in front of a tv watching scary movies and boring shows all day, or like my poor grandma who goes through an endless cycle of clean up grandpa, cook for grandpa, give pills to grandpa, put grandpa to bed, and then watch TLC for an hour and then go to bed to do it all again the next day.
When my mind starts fading, someone tell me quick. I'll put "do not recessitate" on my documents, get my affairs in order, get anyone I'm responsible for taken care of, and then have a reckless and fun (hopefully short) time. I just see no need in being so careful to prolong the inevitable in my own life so that I live for another twenty or so years in a miserably boring almost vegetative state with no hope for improvement.
However, I say that about me, but it's quite a different story when it's your grandparents (and I don't want to even imagine my own parents or someone else I care about). They've been in your life your whole life and you are terrified of the hole they will leave when they're gone.
But it is also very strange to find that the two grandparents you knew your whole life are very different from the two people you find yourself staying with for a whole month... by yourself! The grandmother I remember who was such a good cook, went after hoodlums with bed posts, and made coming to "Grandma's House" such a warm cozy exciting experience; and the grandpa I remember who could do anything with his hands, computer whiz, fisherman, champion bowler, who once argued logically with me that grass was purple and won just to prove that he could are not the two people that I am living with now. I know they used to be, but something has drastically altered.
My grandpa has Alzheimers and it wouldn't surprise me if my grandma was heading in the same direction as well. It has been very much like living with two two year olds who you can not only not put in time out for misbehavior, but who are actually in charge. This has been the cause for quite a few interesting stories, and I hope that one day they will all be funny. Perhaps writing about them will help.
Next time I'll write about what my grandpa's nickname for me is and how Grandma handles my cooking techniques among other things.
...has it really just been a week and a half?!