Sunday morning, I was determined to see my grandma; my mom even said she would help me. It shouldn’t be that tough, right? Get in the car and drive for fifteen minutes and walk in her front door.
But there’s the Sharon factor. There’s always the Sharon factor. Ever since my grandma was admitted to the hospital last November***, everyone has had to go through Sharon to see her (and actually, Sharon was already extremely protective of her, to the point where she acted more like her warden and less, much less, like her daughter). I used to be able to stop by on a whim, walk right in; but now Sharon keeps the house locked up like a fortress.
My mom didn’t think it was going to be a problem for me to go over there that day, but I unfortunately needed to text Sharon to make sure that the door would be open for me. My text said, “I want to see Grandma today.” I am DONE asking. I am DONE being patient. She gives me the run-around every single time and it’s absolutely absurd.
Since November, my grandma has been in and out of the hospital and nursing home, either for taking another fall or for UTIs. I have only been able to see her once since Christmas, because there’s always SOMETHING, according to Sharon.
Several weeks ago, Sharon promised, “You and Chooch can come over next weekend to see grandma. She would really like that. She misses Chooch and he always makes her smile.”
That next Saturday, she called me around 8:30am. This is the dialogue we shared, un-embellished:
“Hey, do you think when you come over this weekend, you could stay for like, half the day so I can go out and get some stuff done?” Sharon asked.
“Yes, definitely!” I agreed, excited at the opportunity to you know, spend time with my grandmother.
“Oh excellent!” Sharon exclaimed. “How about you come over tomorrow morning at 10?”
After I wholeheartedly agreed, Sharon laughed like Kathie Lee and Hoda had just said something that’s only funny to pathetic fifty-year-old women, and said, “No, I’m just kidding! I actually just took grandma back to the hospital this morning. She has another UTI.”
Do you see what I’m contending with? A certifiable crazy woman. Who jokes about something like that? I totally tattled on her to my mom, who swore she was “going to have a talk with her.”
After Sharon failed to respond to my text (I won’t call her, absolutely refuse), I lost my temper and texted, “This is absolutely ridiculous. I would like to see her before it’s at her FUNERAL. She is my goddamn GRANDMOTHER.” (Or as Sharon now refers to her – grandmum. This, after 30 years of the rest of us calling her “grandma.” Like normal Americans not trying to be British.)
And THAT got Sharon’s attention. She called me and screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?”
Calmly, but with a slight air of condescension, I stated, “My problem is that I’ve been trying to see my grandmother for the last six months.”
Sharon began to stammer.
“Go on, what’s your excuse this time?” I asked snidely.
And she hung up on me.
So I called my mom and proceeded to flip out about the whole situation. “She’s fucking hiding something up there in that house that she doesn’t want any of us to come in, I just know it! This is my grandma and I know it’s morbid, but I want to see her before she dies and I feel like I’m running out of time!”
My mom for once was completely on my side (she has been super awesome the last few months, by the way). “Oh, she’s beeping in!” my mom laughed. So I let her go and deal with her crazy ass sister.
And you know what Sharon said to her? Sharon said that she’s been trying to get me to come over for months, but every time she asks me, I always say I have other plans. And that I called her this morning screaming about a funeral. And that she hung up on me because I was sounding really over-heated and she didn’t want it to turn into a full-blown argument. And that she has no problem with me coming over, but I always have the audacity to drag my ragamuffin son with me and then she gets stuck chasing him all over the house.
Oh, well excuse me! I’ll just keep him chained up outside next time.
Furthermore, she’s the one who always takes him out of the den and says, “Hey Chooch, come look at this,” or “Hey Chooch, let’s go in the kitchen and I’ll make you french fries.”
So whatever. What the fuck ever.
“Just go over,” my mom urged me. “Sharon’s there and she has to open the door for you.”
“Will you meet us there?” I pleaded. If there was going to be tension, and there was going to be tension, I’d have preferred my mom to be there too.
“No. I can’t,” she said bluntly. She lives two houses down, but the whole situation has her so upset, that she would rather just avoid it than face it. It’s how my mom is, and on one hand I can’t blame her. That house is like a crock pot for memories, trauma, and ghosts. And no one wants to see it in its current Sharon-run state.
I filled Chooch’s backpack with some toys and we set off to my grandma’s house. Sharon had everything locked up tight, so we couldn’t even open the storm door to knock on the front door. We had to just keep banging on the glass, hoping to be heard.
After leaving us stand out there for a few minutes (I refused to leave, and would have eventually started walking around the perimeter, chucking stones at windows), she opened the door, harried and in a pink tattered robe. She ran her hand exasperatedly through her unwashed hair and Chooch and I pushed our way past.
“Don’t worry,” I muttered. “I brought toys so you won’t have to ‘chase him all around the house.’” I used a nice and shitty sarcastic tone for the last part and I know it pissed her off.
My grandma was sitting in her recliner in the den, watching the Cooking Channel. She looked about as well as you’d look if you were in your 80s and cooped up in the same room all the livelong day. Sad, tired.
But she was coherent.
When I asked how she was feeling, she said, “OK. But I’m bored. I feel like the walls are closing in on me.” I glanced around the room, a den once spotless and the literal heart of the house, now contained an oversized garbage bag stuffed to the point of spillage with magazines and newspaper (Sharon’s new hobby is hoarding) and the hair from Sharon’s dog literally overtook the floor as the new carpet; his dog bed and toys were strewn everywhere.
My pappap would have had a fit.
Chooch stayed in the den the whole time like I asked him to, because god forbid Sharon would have to “chase” him (it’s OK for to keep her destructive dog in the house, but a four-year-old is off-limits), and I was able to talk a little bit with my grandma. Her hearing is pretty bad, so even though she was coherent, I don’t think she really heard most of what I said, but was just pretending to.
“I heard Christy is pregnant again,” she said, smiling. And that made me happy because she clearly remembered Christy, my friend since I was four-years-old. It was almost like having a normal conversation.
We talked about Chooch starting preschool in the fall, and she brought up some memories she had of standing with the other moms and grandmas who were dropping their kids off in my preschool class. It was good to hear her remembering things from over twenty-five years ago (shut up) and I desperately wished I could stay there all day, picking her brain.
“I remember one time, my mom forgot to pick me up and I had to sit in the office with Sister Dolores,” I laughed. “Then pappap came and rescued me as usual, and he felt so bad. So I asked, ‘Since everyone forgot to get me, can I get my ears pierced?’” My grandma laughed at this story, but I instantly regretted mentioning my pappap. I love talking about him, and will sit down with anyone willing to listen to me and spout off story after story about him. He will always be my favorite person, and yes, it’s still hard at times, like now as my eyes well up while I type this, but I could never just stop keeping his memory alive, no matter how much it hurts my heart.
“He was such a good man,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on something far away.
I wanted to tell her that we had put pink roses on his grave during Memorial Day weekend. But seeing how sad she looked after saying that, I skipped that one. I can count on one hand the number of times she and I have talked about him since his death in 1996.
Every so often, I’d catch a glimpse of Sharon’s pink robe swishing past the gates of the den. It just made me sigh.
After thirty minutes, Chooch announced, right as Sharon was gliding past on her broom stick, that he had to pee.
“Oh sweetie, I wish I could let you use the bathroom, but grandma had an accident and I haven’t cleaned it yet,” Sharon said with her patented faux-sympathy.
There are six bathrooms in that house. SIX BATHROOMS. And only one works?
Everything died along with my pappap. Apparently, even the plumbing.
“Then I just want to go home,” Chooch said, with so much seriousness that I forgot he was only four. I can only imagine what it’s like for him there. He’s not a stupid kid, and I’m sure he can pick up on the fact that we’re not welcome. It’s uncomfortable. For Christ’s sake, I STOOD for most of the visit because I don’t even feel entitled to sit anywhere.
So we packed up all of Chooch’s toys and gave my grandma a kiss goodbye.
“Please stop back anytime,” she said. “I love seeing you two.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “We’ll try.”
I brushed past Sharon on the way out, same as I did on the way in. And Chooch peed in the front yard.
[***If you're new to this blog, click that link up there; it explains a lot.]
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I’m really glad you got to see your grandma. I think you should do that more often…just show up and demand to be let in and see what happens…i know its stressful, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it.
I just wish my mom would go with me.
I’m glad you had enough courage to go see your grandma, even after the way Sharon acted. I probably would just avoid her at all costs and resent her for the rest of my life for not letting me see my grandmother while she was alive, heh.
It just astounds me how people feel they can treat others that way. How justified they are about how RUDE they can be to people. It’s fucking ridiculous.
It’s weird. The situation has me so exhausted, that I go back and forth caring and not caring. And then I feel like shit for not caring.
She was so much better off when she was in the nursing home.
What a piece of olive loaf that woman is! (that is the nastiest meat I could think of- now I’m not even sure it’s a meat but it sounds right. Wanted to type cock sucking whore but I remembered your tweet about meats. Lol.)
glad you got to see her, I hope you can see her again soon.
I love you for calling her an olive loaf! Seriously, that was a much-needed laugh. :)
Good, that’s what I was going for. Success! =)
As I began reading this i was very concerned. I’m glad you got to see your grandma and that she was “ok” If you ever feel that something not right is going on you should call Adult Protective Services.
Thanks. I know.
This was really upsetting to read. 6 months? Unbelievable! And she had the nerve to lie to your mom as though you didn’t make the effort to try to visit. Your poor Grandma is bored and doesn’t even have a proper bathroom. Goddammit, this makes me so mad! Can I adopt her?
It makes me angry too! I’m constantly struggling with that angel and devil on my shoulder. Of course I love her, but she treated me like shit for the better portion of my life, and I think that’s what’s keeping me from going the extra mile. Not that I want HER to be treated like shit. I’m pretty sure that’s what my mom is experiencing too. The whole situation just makes me feel like shit.
WOW! Just wow! I can’t believe that actually happened. I mean I know it did, but that’s unreal. *Sigh* I’m so sorry you have her to deal with, but maybe just start going over there whenever you want. I know, I know…if it were that easy, you’d have already done that. I am truly sorry you have to jump through hoops to see your Grandma though. Hoping things get better from here on out!
Thanks Kelly!
It’s such a frustrating situation. I used to be able to pop on over anytime I wanted. I never thought it would come to this!
That’s what I was going for. :) success!
This made me angry. Then it made me sad. Finally it made me laugh. Quintessential Erin writing.
Thank you for reading it, Elaine. It was tough to write, because the situation is so STUPID and weird. I’m so ashamed of my family.
You write so well Erin, usually you make me laugh but this time I’m like near tears. *hugs*
<3
So sorry to hear this, Erin, but I’m glad you got to visit with your grandmother. If it makes you feel better to see her, then you should definitely continue to just show up and demand to be let in (like Alisha commented). Maybe your mom will be able to go with you next time. I totally get how mixed up it makes you feel, because I have a similar situation going on with my grandparents who are living with my aunt and uncle. (Although, my aunt is only passive-aggressive and not completely unhinged like Sharon seems to be.) I wasn’t close with my grandparents, as I think I’ve told you before, but I feel the opposing “I care, no I don’t care” emotions you’re describing, and it sucks.
In the end, even if you have mixed emotions about it, I don’t think you’ll ever look back on this situation and wish that you had visited her less.
Keep your head up. xo
I know you can relate to this in a way, because of your own strained relationship with your grandparents. I love her of course, but I really think the way she’s treated me in the past is subconsciously keeping me from going that extra mile. Which is horrible and makes me feel like shit to even admit.
I’ve gone over there before unannounced, but Sharon won’t answer the door. And the only way to get ahold of my grandma? Sharon’s cell phone, of course!
The only reason she opened the door on Sunday is because my mom started a fight with her over the phone. I wish she would just go with me!!
I can’t even imagine how frustrating this has to be for you. Every time you’ve posted about Sharon I want to punch her in the neck and I’ve never even met her.
Aside from the grandma factor, it’s frustrating because Sharon used to be the cool aunt. She was awesome! She was always really well dressed, wore really fabulous jewelry, always had her hair done. She was the one I would go to a lot of the times when I was having trouble at home. I miss that.
I’ve watched this descent of hers start after my pappap died. I don’t think she has ever mourned his death yet. She’s always been so falsely optimistic, never got it out of her system, and I think she’s legitimately crazy now.
My heart aches for you my friend. I’m so glad you got to see her and that your mom is helping in the fight.
Calling adult protective services is really a good idea. Just getting someone in authority in there to check on how your grandma is being treated.
I can’t imagine how hard it is for you, but it might help.
I just wish the doctors never released her from the nursing home. She was making friends there. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to ONLY HAVE SHARON to talk with. Jesus Christ! I can at least hit “ignore” when she calls. It’s not like my grandma can just get up and walk away.
I just keep imagining Riley pissing on the tires of Sharon’s car whilst simultaneously flipping the bird in the direction of her house.
Ha! You don’t want to get that kid on your bad side. He already is starting to shy away from Sharon. Just three years ago, she was babysitting him! I would never in a million years consider leaving him with her now.
just chiming in with what everyone else is saying: Sharon scares the shit out of me. The fact that she is the primary caregiver to your grandmas is terrifying. I cannot even imagine telling a child — anyone — that they can’t use the bathroom because of a completely fabricated reason. That lady is one fucked up olive loaf, for sure. It sounds like she needs more help than your grandma. (Does she get any breaks? Because that weird not-funny joke about you coming over and spending the day… I started to read that as she is desperate for some time off — well, until you hit the punch line, and then I just wanted to hurt her.)
Thank you! She DOES need help. 90% of the time, she has this really weird, controlled Pollyanna charade going on. The other 10%, she’s flipping out and literally pulling on her hair. That’s how she was on Sunday. Sighing heavily to remind me how disgusted and displeased she was with me barging in.
The ideal outcome would be my grandma being moved to a nursing home and Sharon being committed.
And I’ve double commented, brilliant. I was concerned when it didn’t show in response to yours, but after scrolling down I see it.
Whoops.
Maybe I’m being a piece of pastrami today? (not as bad as olive loaf, but still a dumb idea..=))
No worries, it just makes me look popular! <3
Sweet! Popularity is good. =)
this breaks my heart. I don’t mean to piggyback your entry, but grandparents really are the best thing. I love my grandma. one of the few family members that I adore.
after I read sharon’s “funny” little prank, myjaw literally dropped. That’s fucking disgusting. She is disgusting.
Respectfully suggesting you intervene legally. Get power of attorney for your grandma, and get sharon the fuck away. The hording thing? Not a good sign. And I sincerely doubt your grandmother needs to live with a horder, having the house accumulate filth and who the fuck knows what else
this infuriates me.
It’s so easy of me to say that you should intervene, when that requires time and resources you probably might not have. But my god… have sharon committed at least or something. I dont even know
Grandparents are the best, for real. Even though my grandma was never your typical floured-apron, cookie-bakin’, crocheting granny, I still have love for her. Yes, she is still constantly judging me, but I can live with that because it’s who she is and I lived my whole life under her disapproving gaze.
BUt what honestly makes me most upset about all of this is Sharon. She used to be really awesome. Sometimes, she was more of a mother to me than Val ever was. And now I see her, smelling putrid, like dog and a build up of must and body odor; wearing the same clothes every day; her hair all matted to her head and her eyes completely vacant…and it just kills me how she let herself go like that. She has never NOT lived at home with her mother. Never been married, no serious boyfriends. And she was decent-looking when I was a kid!
The whole thing is depressing. So Grey Gardens-esque.
Sharon has power of attorney. I wonder how hard it would be to strip her of that right. My only problem is that I am always broke so if I’d need a lawyer, I’d be screwed.
damn i never got an email saying you replied
my grandma isn’t the cookie-bakin’ type either. She yells and bosses people around a lot. But it’s fucking awesome.
I think there’s something psychosomatic going on with sharon, rather than letting herself go. Proving that, would easily strip her of the power of attorney. but yeah, getting the lawyer is the hard part.
I’d at least try to speak with one, to see if you’re able to pursue it or anything.
Erin. ~HUGS~ Reading this made me cry. I just want too knock that psycho lady upside her head. Its horrible the way that bitch treats grandma…you..and Chooch. I know how hard it must be for you to fight to see her…but i hope you continue fighting. She needs you. Grammys are special people.
Chooch peeing in her yard…~laughs~ hi-five the kiddo for me!
Hope you’re doing ok.
Thank you, Melissa! I’m doing OK. Just frustrated! I’m going to try and sit my mom down and come up with a plan. The problem is that she still thinks at the end of the day, Sharon is being helpful and that my grandma needs her. And Sharon does do a lot for her! I won’t deny that. She alone is the one who cleans up after her, feeds her, etc. But I know she’s hindering her as well. She doesn’t get her out of the house! She doesn’t let her interact with people! Although apparently my younger brother can just go over whenever he wants, so this is apparently just an issue I’m having. I don’t know. It’s not normal!!
What a bitter-sweet post! So sweet that you got to see your grandma. Seems like she means a lot to you. And then, Sharon, your aunt? Wow. I definitely know family members like this. Actually, my aunt is just like this too! Saying one thing and acting another. So irritating! They are literally crazy, I can agree with you on that one!
Sharon is definitely a piece of work! I’m sorry you have an aunt like that too:( It’s frustrating!
found your site on del.icio.us today and really liked it.. i bookmarked it and will be back to check it out some more later
Something tells me you would be the best medicine for your grandma’s boredom. Get out your guns and force your way in as often as you can. It may seem tough now, but I bet you will never regret doing it, in future.
Thanks for the support and encouragement, Kate! I’m going to try to get over there much more often, and to fight harder even when Sharon makes me feel defeated. <3
I’m glad you and Chooch got to visit your Grandma. I am so sorry you have to deal with your whackjob aunt. It’s not right. Is there any way to take your Grandma out of the house on a day trip, or even just lunch? Just away from Sharon so your Grandma can be herself again. I don’t even know Sharon, but I want her to meet the business end of a steel bat.
PS: I agree that grandparents are the best, I had tears in my eyes reading about your Pappap. I know how you feel, I lost my maternal grandma who was like a mom to me more than my own mother in 2002, and I will never get over it. No thanks to my mom not coming up to the hospital as she was dying, no, she let my Papa and I be the ones at her bedside as she took her last breath. No, I’m not traumatized, not at all. Maybe my mom and Sharon know each other…
Ugh, Heather – that’s so sad! I’m sorry you had to experience something so traumatic.
I’m not nearly as close to my grandma as I was my pappap, but with her I KNOW that she doesn’t have much time left and I don’t want any regrets. I’ve been trying to swallow my pride, let her have her little digs at me, whatever – it’s worth it to know I’m getting that time in.
My pappap died very unexpectedly. He wasn’t even sick. Just, one night, he was gone. I never got to say goodbye and even though I saw him almost every day, it didn’t matter. I still regret every moment that I DIDN’T spend with him.
Thank you for sharing your experience with me! <3
Sharon’s joke? Not funny.
Sharon’s attitude? Detrimental to ALL parties involved. Especially the part where she doesn’t take your grandmother OUT for some fresh air and a change of scenery. It must kill you being forced to see her wasting away like that. (AND to see your formerly cool aunt turn into someone you no longer know!) I wish I lived closer so I could go with you and help you take her outside.
Good for Riley peeing on her lawn.