I made it a priority after work today to check on Dawn, following the events I described in the previous post. Now add to that the fact that Irene (her grandmother) has just been released from the hospital and now must rely on Hospice care, and everyone knows what that means, symbolically at least.
Now everyone in that family seems to be crawling out of the woodwork, saying my gosh, where has the time gone, and what's happened to her? Being a neighbor for four years, I know what's been going on with her. I always try to check on her at least once a month. I'm only a neighbor. Where's her extended family been all this time?
Dawn now has the role of my late mother in 1989-1991, when she was literally the sole caregiver for her mother, afflicted with Alzheimers. She may have gotten help from her brother and his wife, but that was it. There was a big family split in the late 1960s between my grandmother and her younger brother which cut everyone in half. We didn't expect to hear from the adversaries, but what about the ones who didn't split off back then, and what about their offspring?
My grandmother was the matriarch of her family back then. In many cultures, the matriarch or patriarch are revered. My mother should have had more than part time help from two people. I would have done more if I knew how to work with an Alzheimers patient.
My mother spent more time at her mother's house than she did at ours. It was a lifting of a burden for her that I was 19 years old at the time and could be trusted at home alone, with my father working afternoons. And my mother didn't cut her hours at her job, either; it was straight from Dearborn to Wyandotte. I might have seen her an hour a day at our house. And even when we hired Roma to be the full-time housekeeper over there, my mother was there every day. Everyone else? When it was convenient for them.
I harbor no regret now. It's been sixteen years since grandma's passing. The hurt has healed also because the family just split up permanently; everyone picked up their balls and left. No arguments could possibly take place if the combatants weren't in the "ring". It was just a feeling of resignation my mother felt about a year into the ordeal; she was thankful for help, but she knew better than to expect a consistent effort from supporting members of the family, and that was a damn shame.
The minute Grandma hit Hospice and was near death, then we starting hearing from her friends at the church, at the Polish Club, and elsewhere. The funeral home and service turnouts were astoundingly huge. Grandma had a lot of people who loved her.
But where were they when my grandmother was going through the worst of it at home? You could count it on one finger: my mother.
Now Dawn takes care of her grandmother more than her own Mom does. Relatives are there now for brief visits. I've been here four years, and I've never seen any of them before. This means Irene's visitors list is very small, and like it was sixteen years ago... a damn shame.
Does this paint the picture of family who really cares, or family who turns out just to fulfill a basic, bare-bones committment?
Dawn knows Steve and I have her back if she needs it. I hope she goes one step above my mother and demands it from those who need to provide it.
