The Things They Carried Narrative

Living in Grey

There’s something about change, something so distasteful to some, but for others such
excitement.  My emotional burden is fueled by change.  Two weeks ago my grandmother moved in.  We built an addition on the house after my pepere died so that she wouldn’t be lonely.  The elderly are a tough crowd, they can be stubborn and grouchy, but they’re also known to spoil their grandkids from time to time.  They drive you a little crazy when they’re in their own little world and are unaware of their surroundings.  It never occurred to me that when we talked about the new plans a year ago it would actually happen, but now I find myself waking up to a house of six instead of five.  While the end goal was to give my memere some company, this change has developed into my mental burden I live through everyday.  

In a time like this it’s easy to become more adamant of your routines and habits.  When someone moves in, especially a grandparent, routines are changed, a sense of peace is taken from you.  Suddenly I wake up in the morning and someone is asking me questions, offering me breakfast, but that’s not my routine.  I don’t like mornings.  Usually the first words I speak in the morning don’t come until first period begins.  I pop a bagel in the toaster, cream cheese it, and then run out the door.  To me this change has been frustrating and hard; and has created a real absence of personal time.

As I previously mentioned the morning adjustment has been particularly hard for me.  As much as I love sleeping, I also love to go to school and socialize.  When I wake up in the morning I don’t want to be asked questions, “quizzed” as I call it.  However, when your 80 plus year old memere asks you how you slept, it’s not necessarily the right thing to ignore her.  I know that she is only trying to be compassionate, but that’s not my routine, and it’s not how I do mornings.  I really just want to be left alone, but it’s hard when she’s always asking if I have practice, if I need a snack, or if I packed a lunch even though I tell her everyday that my school has a dining hall.  One morning my sister’s alarm was going off and she thought it was mine so she woke me up, little did she know my alarm wasn’t going to go off for another hour.  As clueless as she always is I’m quite sure she learned a lesson that morning.  She’s my memere so I forgive her, but the adjustment and change on the topic of mornings has been nothing short of a real challenge.  

The second challenge is the peace aspect of the deal.  On Sunday’s my mom usually runs her errands and I get the house to myself for a little while.  This is the time when I usually start on my homework without distractions, but not this past Sunday.  As I dragged out my school bag to the kitchen counter and stacked up all my books, of course it wouldn’t be right if she didn’t chime in “what are you doing?”  In my head I’m thinking wow this is really bad, this woman can’t even put two and two together.  I have a stack of school books, a school bag, and a laptop, I’m obviously doing homework.  I know she was only trying to strike conversation so instead of voicing these thoughts I put a nice fake smile on and said, “oh I’m just working on some homework.”  You’d think when I put in my headphones she would notice and just continue to watch the television, but nope “what classes are you taking?”  This sounds cruel, but I tried to pretend I didn’t hear.  Next thing you know she’s yelling my name.  So I surrender, I pulled out a headphone from one ear and listed off all my classes.  I continued to tell her I was listening to music so I wouldn’t be able to hear her and she just left me alone finally.  This may seem small, but when it happens constantly and you’re not used to it you get annoyed really quickly, I promise.  

To say the least I wouldn’t say that I’m completely on board with this recent change.  She just moved in and I’m already over it.  I’m sure time will tell, but while the adjustment is still fresh it has been a real back-breaker.  In the end she’s my memere and I gotta love her for it, but sometimes I wish she would just get it.  Change, some people really embrace it, but let me assure you I’m silently not one of those people.  To me voicing complaint isn’t worth it.  There’s no refund on the addition and it’s not like we can ship her via UPS to somewhere different.  She is family and it hasn’t been the easiest of transitions, but whether family or friends the door to 40 St. Patrick is always open.