Memories

So I sit here thinking about past memories and future memories that we will make while in PA.

We are on a mini getaway. Can't say it's going to be relaxing. Visiting my Mom is never relaxing. I'm always afraid of what I might do wrong, yes even at 40. Throw my kids into the equation and the anxiety is high. She's never been a kid person. I would know. I know she enjoys seeing us, just as long as she is not the one making the 10 hour trip. But I always feel that when I go she says, "Wow, that was a bit much. Good thing they don't come often". Now whether she truly feels this way I don't know. I sure hope not. But I still can't seem to shake the feeling.

Along with my Mom I get to see my Grandfather. Pap, as I call him. This man has meant the world to me. My most cherished memories as a child has been with him. I always felt loved, cared for and special. Both my grandmother and grandfather were wonderful to me. I only got to see them a few times a year but they were always the best weeks of my year. My grandmother has already passed away and soon my grandfather will too. He has been very sick the last few months. In and out of the hospital, too many times to count. He is 95, deaf, blind and in the midst of heart failure, demetia and pneumonia. He is no longer the Pap I remember. I lost that man many years ago. He's a mean old man who swears, yells, and hates everyone and everything. He can tear you down with just a sentence. He can get my blood boiling as I sit and listen to him tear my mother apart. Mind you she has been the one taking care of him for years, yet to him she is nothing but a pain in the ass and someone who wants to steal his money. I don't like this man.

I haven't seen him for a year. My kids two years. I went too long. Shame on me for not making a better effort to go in the spring. Now we are near the end of his life and I will get to spend a bit of time with him the next few days. What memories will I take from this. I'm afraid they won't be good. I worry what the kids will think. Hard for them to believe that who they see now is not my grandfather. If it was, my kids would not even spend a minute with him. I hope he will be kind with them. We'll see.

Memories. The good and the bad. They make us who we are.