I Miss My Nana

When I was little, I used to spend my summers with my Nana. I adored her, she was one the coolest people in the world. During the summers that I used to spend with her, we would play cards, go shopping, go to bbqs, and just hang out. I admired her. She was strong and courageous. She got pregnant was she was 15 and had my mom when she was 16. She did not finish school, but as a senior citizen she did attempt to get her GED. She was smart. She used to do these crossword puzzles that came in the newspaper, I could hardly find the answers to two or three of the clues. She spoke (and still does speak) proper english and often corrected me on my grammar. I could often come to her to discuss issues that I know my mother would gasp about. For example, when my mom found out I had lost my virginity her whole world fell apart. I felt so bad and I called my Nana to talk about it. What was my Nana's reaction? She asked me whether or not I enjoyed it. That totally caught me off guard, but it showed me that although my mother tried fill in the pieces and raise me differently than she had been raised, she had forgotten some intricate parts.

I speak of my Nana as if she isn't here. And, I know that is wrong. It is just easier for me to remember who she was, who I admired, who I adored. It is too hard for me to accept the woman she has become today. It is too heartbreaking. I don't even like to call to talk to her any more.

My Nana has became an alcoholic. She is an alcoholic. Not to provide her with an excuse, but to give all of the material facts...she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia some years ago. I am not sure if you are familiar with this disease, but it is extremely painful and there is no cure. She describes it as someone continuously stabbing her all over her body with knives. So, to compensate for the pain she turned to alcohol. And, alcohol has taken over her life. The alcohol has changed her personality, drastically aged her, deteriorated her physical health, and emotionally scarred her family.

I absolutely despise it. Yet, I am susceptible to having a drink every now and then. But, I don't let it consume me. I don't understand why she has consumed her. She had a brother die from addiction to drugs and alcohol. She has an alcoholic sister that she had to endure and cover for during her episodes. Now, that sister looks 20 years older than her older siblings and she wears depends. But, all of this doesn't stop my Nana.

She cries out that she needs me and she wants help. She has gone up to the alter and asked God to remove the taste from her. I shed tears from joy that I might have my Nana back. Then, two days later she is at the bottle again. My mom, uncle, and aunt have tried to get her assistance, but nothing sticks. She is a drunk. She is not the Nana I used to know. She is Edith. I hate that she has done this to herself. I absolutely hate it. I have seen her fall, yell in a drunken stupor, urine on herself, unable to walk unassisted, etc. She came to my wedding with a extremely swollen black eye that she got from falling in one of her drunken stupors. She had to take pictures and spend the whole day with sunglasses on.

So, my dilemma. I need to grow up and accept the current situation. I need to call her, but I just can't bring myself to do it. She was drunk the last time I spoke to her and it was 12:15 p.m. (just a little after noon). I just can't bring myself to pick up the phone and hear her slur her words on the other end. That would anger me and break my heart once again.