Went across to New Zealand for the weekend. No, not glamorous jetsetting or similar, instead popped in to see the grandparents, for the first time in two years. My grandfather, who is battling two types of cancer at the moment, seemed better than I had been led to believe prior to the visit, and seemed quite happy about things.
They had gone for a medical appointment a few hours before I arrived on the Friday night, with Grandad coming right out and asking how long did he have to go. The doctor said well, if it was a slightly different cancer, well, then it could be six months, but then swerved by saying my grandfather's case was a bit different and there wasn't really a set timeframe. My grandfather was pretty chuffed with that reply, and through the rest of the weekend was focussing on the six months - I got the impression that it was a bit longer than he expected he had.
He didn't seem to be too bad, health wise - apart from his legs. He needs a couple of launch attempts to get out of the chair in the lounge, and at times he was shuffling instead of walking. With a touch of the coughs from time to time. Also, he is very much stay at home now - he didn't leave the house at all while I was there, even when he was left by himself, and it didn't seem that he had the inclination to. He was out tilling a patch of soil in his vege garden for about half an hour on the Saturday, and that seemed to exhaust him for the rest of the day.
He was vague at times, for sure, but from my point of view, it is hard to really notice a difference at this point - being vague can sometimes be very similar to being stubborn, not listening to what others are saying, and being in a sulk, all of which my grandfather has been known to do. And with me sitting back and listening the time I had there, it was interesting to listen to Grandad try to say something a few times and then be talked over by other family members. Although me being a fly by nighter, as opposed to other family members who deal with it seven days a week, it's not really my place to say much on that.
His attention span comes and goes, but then that was always an issue with my grandfather. Watching absolute crap movies and he was able to concentrate for the duration. Get something he didn't want to watch and ten minutes later, well, there would start the channel flicking. Yes, I know I am similar in regards to remote controls, but at least I wouldn't do it in company.
The first night I was there, my grandfather surprised me by being sharp as a tack about the subject of cooked breakfasts. Never had them at home he said, but had them out at the bach when hunting - shot pigs, deer, rabbits, and 'tame sheep' when they could get away with it. But apart from that couple of minutes of sharpness, he didn't really talk about the past, and even though I wanted to hear all the stories, I didn't want to push it in case he couldn't remember, with him then getting frustrated or angry about that fact.
It was just very nice - sitting out in the garage, facing out to the neighbourhood in the sun, while Grandad was reading the paper. Or sitting out with the grandparents at the garden table, Grandma talking about how Wellington was during the war, Grandad sipping on a shandy. Or having breakfast with them, or just sitting, talking in the lounge, all the while trying to hear over the TV or friggin talkback radio.
Grandma and I only left the house twice, to stock up on lollies and have an ice cream at the local shopping mall on the Saturday, and pick up some pies for lunch on the Sunday. Steak and cheese has never really caught on as a pie flavour across this side of the Tasman, has it?
Watching an hour and a half of One Foot in the Grave on UKTV Sunday morning, realising that as I get older, I get that show more than I did when I was young. The perfect company to watch it, with the grandparents. And then getting my moment with the remote, watching MTV for half an hour or so - oh, woe betide Generation X, is Jackass the best we can come up with?
Vicki had made a scrapbook up from last time we had visited the grandparents, two years ago, and was brilliant to see Grandma poring over it in delight. This time around, I took about fifty pics and about twenty minutes of video from my digital camera. Was taking the video so various people could feel as if they had been there, and then as I was taking more and more footage, thought that it was just a good idea in the first place. Showed the videos to my parents when I got back, and they seemed to appreciate it.
Grandma, well she seemed okay for the most part, a tad tired perhaps, but that is understandable - what I got for 60 hours or so, she gets 24/7. Was nice to hear her talk about the old days, one story being how she used to play cards with her father for the housekeeping money. Her father was such a cheat and almost always won. The housekeeping always had to be put back though, so Grandma would be able to do the shopping the following day.
Was nice hearing the grandparents laugh during the weekend, sometimes both at the same time, which was even nicer. Big hugs goodbye, though no pending sense of finality, which some goodbyes have. Of course, I need to be less tardy with the next visit than I was with this one.
We don't remember days, we remember moments.
Paul
They had gone for a medical appointment a few hours before I arrived on the Friday night, with Grandad coming right out and asking how long did he have to go. The doctor said well, if it was a slightly different cancer, well, then it could be six months, but then swerved by saying my grandfather's case was a bit different and there wasn't really a set timeframe. My grandfather was pretty chuffed with that reply, and through the rest of the weekend was focussing on the six months - I got the impression that it was a bit longer than he expected he had.
He didn't seem to be too bad, health wise - apart from his legs. He needs a couple of launch attempts to get out of the chair in the lounge, and at times he was shuffling instead of walking. With a touch of the coughs from time to time. Also, he is very much stay at home now - he didn't leave the house at all while I was there, even when he was left by himself, and it didn't seem that he had the inclination to. He was out tilling a patch of soil in his vege garden for about half an hour on the Saturday, and that seemed to exhaust him for the rest of the day.
He was vague at times, for sure, but from my point of view, it is hard to really notice a difference at this point - being vague can sometimes be very similar to being stubborn, not listening to what others are saying, and being in a sulk, all of which my grandfather has been known to do. And with me sitting back and listening the time I had there, it was interesting to listen to Grandad try to say something a few times and then be talked over by other family members. Although me being a fly by nighter, as opposed to other family members who deal with it seven days a week, it's not really my place to say much on that.
His attention span comes and goes, but then that was always an issue with my grandfather. Watching absolute crap movies and he was able to concentrate for the duration. Get something he didn't want to watch and ten minutes later, well, there would start the channel flicking. Yes, I know I am similar in regards to remote controls, but at least I wouldn't do it in company.
The first night I was there, my grandfather surprised me by being sharp as a tack about the subject of cooked breakfasts. Never had them at home he said, but had them out at the bach when hunting - shot pigs, deer, rabbits, and 'tame sheep' when they could get away with it. But apart from that couple of minutes of sharpness, he didn't really talk about the past, and even though I wanted to hear all the stories, I didn't want to push it in case he couldn't remember, with him then getting frustrated or angry about that fact.
It was just very nice - sitting out in the garage, facing out to the neighbourhood in the sun, while Grandad was reading the paper. Or sitting out with the grandparents at the garden table, Grandma talking about how Wellington was during the war, Grandad sipping on a shandy. Or having breakfast with them, or just sitting, talking in the lounge, all the while trying to hear over the TV or friggin talkback radio.
Grandma and I only left the house twice, to stock up on lollies and have an ice cream at the local shopping mall on the Saturday, and pick up some pies for lunch on the Sunday. Steak and cheese has never really caught on as a pie flavour across this side of the Tasman, has it?
Watching an hour and a half of One Foot in the Grave on UKTV Sunday morning, realising that as I get older, I get that show more than I did when I was young. The perfect company to watch it, with the grandparents. And then getting my moment with the remote, watching MTV for half an hour or so - oh, woe betide Generation X, is Jackass the best we can come up with?
Vicki had made a scrapbook up from last time we had visited the grandparents, two years ago, and was brilliant to see Grandma poring over it in delight. This time around, I took about fifty pics and about twenty minutes of video from my digital camera. Was taking the video so various people could feel as if they had been there, and then as I was taking more and more footage, thought that it was just a good idea in the first place. Showed the videos to my parents when I got back, and they seemed to appreciate it.
Grandma, well she seemed okay for the most part, a tad tired perhaps, but that is understandable - what I got for 60 hours or so, she gets 24/7. Was nice to hear her talk about the old days, one story being how she used to play cards with her father for the housekeeping money. Her father was such a cheat and almost always won. The housekeeping always had to be put back though, so Grandma would be able to do the shopping the following day.
Was nice hearing the grandparents laugh during the weekend, sometimes both at the same time, which was even nicer. Big hugs goodbye, though no pending sense of finality, which some goodbyes have. Of course, I need to be less tardy with the next visit than I was with this one.
We don't remember days, we remember moments.
Paul
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