All Apologies

Looking at my blog last night, DearDR got upset about what I wrote about Nanny and Gigi passing away.

He feels my choice of words sucked, to be frank. Saying that it was a “race” was disrespectful and insensitive.

And I can see his point. In not wanting to be flippant, my wording still was not very sensitive. He was quite hurt and angry.

So I told him I would apologize, and that I would do it on this blog. So I’m doing it. I’m sorry, babe, for my choice of words. I hate that what I wrote hurt you.

I had meant to write more, actually, about losing Nanny and Gigi, but I was distracted at the time I was writing, and I was primarily just trying to throw up a post with some pictures in it. I didn’t spend as much time as I usually do on a post.

I know how important Nanny is to DearDR. From the second he was born, she loved him completely and unconditionally. He healed something in her, and she gave to him a love that he didn’t receive from anyone else. He still has the teddy bear that she went out and bought the day he was born — five weeks early, incidentally.

Losing these extraordinary women is going to be devastating and heartbreaking, and that is something that is not expressed in my last entry. Nanny and Gigi have been through some trying and difficult times, Nanny probably more so than Gigi. If I ever get permission to tell Nanny’s story here — or anywhere publicly for that matter — I would love to. To say she is a survivor doesn’t do her life justice.

At this point, Nanny is frail. Her mind, though, is still sharp. DearDR knows most of the struggles she is going through now, and I will not presume to guess. DearDR, of course, is going through his own struggles facing the loss of this person, who has loved him so much so well for so long.

In contrast, I have been losing Gigi for a number of years now. Her memory started fading probably 10 years ago. Five years ago, it started fleeing. And then about two years ago, she took a fall and fractured her pelvis, and her memory loss was, abruptly, memory lost.

When we visit, she says she remembers who we are, but I have my doubts. These visits are pleasant because my grandmother, despite her complete absence of presence, is cheerful. She isn’t angry, or depressed, or crabby. She just smiles and hmms and nods as we tell her our stories, remark on the weather, or talk about food. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain or discomfort. She is in good health, although my mother reports she is steadily weakening. Unlike Nanny, Gigi isn’t struggling. What would she struggle against?

If I had one wish before Gigi dies, it would be, for one day, to spend it with the grandmother I remember from, say, fifteen or twenty years ago. That woman, my children, and a tape recorder, for 24 hours. I would like Monkey to have something more than the vague woman she has met. Bun may not have any memories of Gigi at all.

Which leaves it up to me, I guess. To remember for all of us.

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If I may please play PittGirl for one moment (come on, a bunch of you did at PodCamp’08) I couldn’t help noticing this story from today’s PG.

I should say, I went looking for this story, because I live in the area, and we had friends who were, almost literally, on the front lines. I can’t attest to whether they were participating in the search, but I would bet — as parents themselves — at least one of them was. While the other stayed home with their own kids, probably giving thanks.

But, I do have a few questions:

1. What was the babysitter doing at the time of the pickup?
2. Why didn’t the aunt take the time to mention that she was picking up the child?
3. Why didn’t the aunt take the child’s coat?

I would like to commend the babysitter for calling the police, and I would like to commend the police for their prompt, intense action. I would like to thank the neighbors who pitched in with flashlights in their hands and hope in their hearts. I sincerely hope that next time a child in Coraopolis goes missing, their responses is exactly the same, even though this incident was frustrating for everyone involved.

Better to risk little frustration than the alternative.