Better Than Okay
We've been moving all weekend. We've moved two apartments and we're moving in together. We're tired. It's supposed to be fun, but it's also sort of stressful.
"We really need to go do this." I tell Ryan. "I haven't been around much the last week. I promised I'd take him out this weekend. I'm so tired. This is so hard."
He listens and he understands. He's tired too. But, he does it.
We get to the Facility. Grandpa doesn't know he's there, even though he's announced himself a couple of times; he knows it's not personal, Grandpa just couldn't hear him. Once Grandpa finally knows its him, he helps him into his wheelchair while I bustle around the room to get the right jacket and the right hat and the other things Grandpa needs to leave for dinner.
We get to the venue. He gets out of the car, we help Grandpa transfer and I leave him to read Grandpa the menu and get him set up with a drink while I park the 'Vetmobile' (my Grandpa's SUV that I drive because it's the vehicle Grandpa is most comfortable navigating). When I sit down, they've ordered beers and Ryan explains Grandpa is disappointed that the restaurant didn't have Kokanee but they've settled on Peroni. We order Grandpa a steak, it's what he's requested and we too, indulge in the good food. We make some small talk and we take turns sitting on Grandpa's left side so we can yell into his ear to make conversation.
Ryan has been not been phased by anything about this situation, including the poopy toilet that was left by one of the care staff in Grandpa's room one day. He's come along for dinners with Grandpa on days where we should have had 'date night'. He listens, empathizes and even throws in his own opinions when I rant about everything that I think is wrong with the System. He makes me feel heard.
When Grandpa died, the first thing he said was, "I wish we had gotten him a Kokanee." He's sad with me. He faces my grief head on, he's grieving too. He comes to the Facility the day after Grandpa died and he helps me clean out the room (the Facility has a 48 hour policy, they don't waste time on grieving). While I questioned if he'd come or if I'm asking too much of him, there was no question in his mind, he just does. The day after that, we go to the Funeral Home. I didn't know that Grandpa requested a cremation. I have to choose an urn. I hand Ryan a catalog for urns and ask his opinion, he chooses a tasteful black leather one. He tells me why he thinks its 'the one'. I tell the Funeral Director that we want it. We drive to the cemetery to scope out the burial site, he holds the map and directs me to the Grandpa's final resting place. When I have to go to pick up Grandpa's remains, Ryan has just broken his collarbone but he gets in the car with me. It's painful for him, but he is there and he doesn't complain. He even suggests a brewery stop to break up the drive in the awful traffic back into Vancouver. The day of the funeral, he and Meghan help me set up. They are the familiar faces in the crowd when I give my second eulogy of the year and when I sit down, he squeezes my hand and he tells me that he's proud of me. After the funeral, he has a Kokanee for Grandpa. I am so grateful.
The thing about Ryan is that he doesn't expect, he just does. There's no unspoken tab system or a expected 'payback', though I'm convinced he accepts cookies as payment. He's so steady and he's so reliable and I'm still adjusting to the fact that none of what has been happening since we've met has been too much for him. His empathy for me and for others is so deep at times, that its almost as if he's experiencing it with you. While he has a steady hand and a calm voice, there's a lot going on inside. He asks good questions - the kind of questions that often make me take long pauses to reflect. He stops to help strangers and when he talks to them, its like they are the only ones in the room. The other thing is, he's also really fun. He likes being silly and when I call his arm a 't-rex' arm post surgery, he thinks my brand of humor is great (which come on, it really is). When I think of him on skis, he is in a complete state of joy and he tells me that when he gets a good powder day, he feels like he's flying. His smile lights up his face and its the kind of smile that follows all the way up into his kind eyes. I am so grateful.
As summer is turning to fall, I feel that we too, are moving onto a new season and a new chapter. We've been subject to so much chaos in the last couple of months that we've started to joke that if we still like each other after this, we're going to be okay. I would say, we're better than okay.
"We really need to go do this." I tell Ryan. "I haven't been around much the last week. I promised I'd take him out this weekend. I'm so tired. This is so hard."
He listens and he understands. He's tired too. But, he does it.
We get to the Facility. Grandpa doesn't know he's there, even though he's announced himself a couple of times; he knows it's not personal, Grandpa just couldn't hear him. Once Grandpa finally knows its him, he helps him into his wheelchair while I bustle around the room to get the right jacket and the right hat and the other things Grandpa needs to leave for dinner.
We get to the venue. He gets out of the car, we help Grandpa transfer and I leave him to read Grandpa the menu and get him set up with a drink while I park the 'Vetmobile' (my Grandpa's SUV that I drive because it's the vehicle Grandpa is most comfortable navigating). When I sit down, they've ordered beers and Ryan explains Grandpa is disappointed that the restaurant didn't have Kokanee but they've settled on Peroni. We order Grandpa a steak, it's what he's requested and we too, indulge in the good food. We make some small talk and we take turns sitting on Grandpa's left side so we can yell into his ear to make conversation.
Ryan has been not been phased by anything about this situation, including the poopy toilet that was left by one of the care staff in Grandpa's room one day. He's come along for dinners with Grandpa on days where we should have had 'date night'. He listens, empathizes and even throws in his own opinions when I rant about everything that I think is wrong with the System. He makes me feel heard.
When Grandpa died, the first thing he said was, "I wish we had gotten him a Kokanee." He's sad with me. He faces my grief head on, he's grieving too. He comes to the Facility the day after Grandpa died and he helps me clean out the room (the Facility has a 48 hour policy, they don't waste time on grieving). While I questioned if he'd come or if I'm asking too much of him, there was no question in his mind, he just does. The day after that, we go to the Funeral Home. I didn't know that Grandpa requested a cremation. I have to choose an urn. I hand Ryan a catalog for urns and ask his opinion, he chooses a tasteful black leather one. He tells me why he thinks its 'the one'. I tell the Funeral Director that we want it. We drive to the cemetery to scope out the burial site, he holds the map and directs me to the Grandpa's final resting place. When I have to go to pick up Grandpa's remains, Ryan has just broken his collarbone but he gets in the car with me. It's painful for him, but he is there and he doesn't complain. He even suggests a brewery stop to break up the drive in the awful traffic back into Vancouver. The day of the funeral, he and Meghan help me set up. They are the familiar faces in the crowd when I give my second eulogy of the year and when I sit down, he squeezes my hand and he tells me that he's proud of me. After the funeral, he has a Kokanee for Grandpa. I am so grateful.
The thing about Ryan is that he doesn't expect, he just does. There's no unspoken tab system or a expected 'payback', though I'm convinced he accepts cookies as payment. He's so steady and he's so reliable and I'm still adjusting to the fact that none of what has been happening since we've met has been too much for him. His empathy for me and for others is so deep at times, that its almost as if he's experiencing it with you. While he has a steady hand and a calm voice, there's a lot going on inside. He asks good questions - the kind of questions that often make me take long pauses to reflect. He stops to help strangers and when he talks to them, its like they are the only ones in the room. The other thing is, he's also really fun. He likes being silly and when I call his arm a 't-rex' arm post surgery, he thinks my brand of humor is great (which come on, it really is). When I think of him on skis, he is in a complete state of joy and he tells me that when he gets a good powder day, he feels like he's flying. His smile lights up his face and its the kind of smile that follows all the way up into his kind eyes. I am so grateful.
As summer is turning to fall, I feel that we too, are moving onto a new season and a new chapter. We've been subject to so much chaos in the last couple of months that we've started to joke that if we still like each other after this, we're going to be okay. I would say, we're better than okay.
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