Not a day goes by where I don’t think about my grandma.   I can’t even escape the memories in my dreams.   It’s all day, everyday, non stop contemplation about her, her sickness, why she did what she did, what I could have done to stop her and even worse, what I did to contribute to her sadness.  I should have gone to church.  I should have shaken out the old curtains like she asked so many times.  Maybe I should have gotten tested for CMT like she asked me too, or at least taken her CMT more seriously.   Gone over more to help with the laundry.  Listened.   Maybe the once a week dinners weren’t enough.  Maybe I should have gone over more.   

Since Robin Williams took is own life, I have had to hear everyone’s opinion on suicide, depression and anxiety.   I suffer from all of the that myself.   I have attempted to take my own life.  And I thank God everyday for my failure in that.  I can understand how someone could be low enough to want it to just end.  I don’t know Robin Williams, but I did know my grandmother.  I know that since the day she was born, she was ill.   She never took a good deep breath.  She suffered from so many different illnesses that restricted her physical health.  She could never go for runs, ride a bike, go for a long hike.  At the young age of 12, she had to move to a orphanage, not because her father couldn’t take care of her, but because it was across the street from the hospital.   If a speck of dust landed in her room, she would have trouble breathing.  The doctors didn’t expect her to live past the age of 15.  But she fought.   Hard.  She made a life for herself.   Got married, had children, went on vacations. Volunteered for several organizations  She was a warrior.  

When she was diagnosed with CMT, it started her downfall. CMT is a disease that eats away at your muscles, much like MS.  All the while leaving your feet and hands with a 24/7 burning itchy sensation.  The only way to stop the pain is placing your hands and feet in a bucket of cold water.   She couldn’t walk, and had trouble lifting things, and on top of that, she had her per-existing COPD, making it EXTREMELY difficult to breath. 

This was just a normal day, this doesn’t include the times she had a cold or the flu.  

She just wanted to be free.   To stop being sick.   She wanted to run and play, and dance and sing.  

I’m not mad at her for doing what she did.   I don’t blame her.  But man I miss her.