No rest for the weary
March 22, 2006
The past two weeks, which reached their climax (oh god I hope so) in the past two days have been like tech week (for those theater nerds out there who know what I mean). There has been the same level of exhaustion, the same feeling of constantly running to get shit done, with the key differences being that in this current situation there is no end in sight, no drunken debauchery with pretty boys to look forward to, and the only feeling of accomplishment coming from the fact that you�ve managed to stave off death another day.
My maternal grandmother�the cutest, sweetest little ewok* this side of the Nile�has ostensibly moved in with us. Previously, she has left her permanent residence with my uncle to come stay with us for a few days or a week, but this time she�s with us till she decides she can�t stand us anymore. In her better days, my tough, little (she�s 4 foot if she�s an inch) nana ran a household of 6 children�with various other relatives and cousins coming and going�on my grandfather�s meager policeman�s budget, and managed to produce two doctors, two engineers, a literary academic, and a businesswoman. She nursed my (absolutely incomparable atypically-feminist-and-open-minded-for-his-generation) grandfather through his final days, practically on her own, while also raising/taking care of a couple of my cousins and my sister. All while being that jolly, caring, huggy, loving gran that everyone�s supposed to have, but few do.
Needless to say, I love my grandmother to distraction.
Unfortunately, she has Alzheimer�s and is steadily deteriorating, a fact which was initially heartbreaking (well, and still is), but is now also exhausting�specifically for my mother, about whom I can�t say enough good things these days. My mother, who has always been an amazing Jill-of-all-trades (and mistress of anything she puts her mind to), has taken her ability for practically super-human feats to another level. [Incidentally, if anyone has ever wondered at the source of my numerous insecurity complexes, you need look no further than my mother.]
The past two days especially our house seems to have turned into a war zone, more exactly, the field clinic, with dementia in bed 2, typhoid fever/ bird flu/ whooping cough in bed 6. My brother came down with a horrible cold/cough, which my mother is tearfully convinced is bird flu, and my grandmother has been having�up until last night, knock on wood�repeated breakdowns, which last hours. Monday night/Tuesday dawn my sister, mother, and I were up until 4 a.m racing between my feverish brother and my panicking grandmother, after which we all fell into a fitful sleep for 3 or 4 hours, only to wake up to a continuation of the previous night�s battle, if you will. I went into work yesterday morning only to turn around and go right back home after an hour. Yesterday was Egyptian mother�s day, and by God I was going to do whatever I could to make sure that my foremothers did not collapse.
By 10:30pm last night we had managed to get my grandmother to bed and my brother�s fever down to a �respectable� 38 degrees. My sister and I were barely able to prop each other up as we washed dishes and tidied up from the day�s messes. My mama though, trooper that she is, walked around the house tidying up, and smilingly caught up with my dad�who we�d all kind of forgotten in the frenzy, and then made some quick phone calls to her close friends in order to wish them a happy mother�s day. When my grandmother woke up with a start a couple of hours later, complaining from a pain in her side, my mother held her hand until she fell back asleep. At one point my grandmother murmured, �Samhini ya binti.� (�Forgive me my daughter.�) My mom just kissed her hand, and asked her mother to forgive her for not being able to comfort her. (And forgive ME for getting a little sappy.)
Happy Mother�s Day to two incredible women.
* Thanks to BK for that astute observation