Coming Home : Part 5

I am spending a few days with my grandmother. She is happy to have me around. When she remembers I am around. Otherwise she is happy in her own world. And occasionally she is very, very sad. And in those moments, it is excruciating to watch her. I crinkle my nose at the smell when her diaper is changed. She withstands the complete destruction of her dignity three times a day. In those fleeting moments, she wails at the wretchedness of her existence. My tears are almost meaningless in comparison to her pain. The first day, I wept when she said she wants to die. Now, I wonder if she’s wrong in wishing for an end to an existence that’s painful for her to live and her loved ones to see. The attendant who has watched over her carefully for 6 months has left for a vacation from which we are unsure she will return. My grandmother calls for her a dozen times a day. We have no reassurance to offer. A series (the third in 3 days arrived today) of replacements keep coming to take her place temporarily. The first was good. (Though I could barely eat my dinner, after she refused lunch, tea or dinner saying she only ate once a day!) The second one was a jaunty, talkative, middle-aged woman who stained the sheets and my grandmother’s nightgown with feces. Not to mention a flask of hot water, and God knows what else. She didn’t know how to change the diaper and strapped it so tight my poor Paati was in pain all night. She kept complaining and I kept telling her it’s nothing. Only the next did we find out she was telling the truth. Never have I felt more guilty. Thankfully attendant number 2 took off before my head exploded with rage.

My uncle who is my grandmother’s primary care giver is the most gentle, watchful, careful man I have seen. Never have I seen a more loving care giver. He has an infinite reservoir of patience with her steady stream of demands. In the last 13 months he has barely spent 2 nights away from her. If he leaves for a few hours, she will sit in her wheelchair, by the window watching for him to return. Only when he returns does she take a breath. The bond is strong. She, who was once his mother, is now his child. And he is an indulgent parent. I, who consider myself fairly patient, is wondering after 4 days, how he weathered 13 months of this. The lapses in memory. The sudden flashes of rage. The moments of complete despair. The interesting love lives of the attendants which lead them to go on indefinite vacations. He is a paragon, I think. But his patience and general sweetness of temper are also a hindrance when dealing with the massive pile of lies, bullcrap and naansense that infests my great nation and its great people.

Maxine has no such compunction. She is a mean bitch. And today, she gave the head of the agency that supplies the attendants an earful. In return for which she got some fake promises of efficiency and a fake “range nahi tha toh phone cut gaya” from the head, and a big hug from her uncle who freely admits he is incapable of administering such a rebuke. The net result of the stern scolding I administered is that replacement number 3 seems fairly reasonable and knows her job. At this point I feel like it’s almost unfortunate I am leaving tomorrow to go see my best friend and her new baby for a few days. I have an irrational urge to go this agency’s office and yell my head off. Not that yelling is my thing. In fact, I have always felt like yelling accomplishes nothing and is waste of emotional space. But when you see a loved one suffer. And you see her suffer more and more for no fault of hers. When you are trying to ensure her comfort and face brick wall after brick wall, a good yelling will at least help you vent. I could use a good venting.

If you can’t already tell, I am very, very angry.

I’ll come back in few days when hopefully, lots of “best friending” and playing with a new baby have put me in a better mood. Until then, I just want to state for the record, that my great nation with all its emphasis on kulchar and tradition is a piece of shit when it comes to honesty and telling the goddamed truth.