When Everything Goes to Hell

It has occurred to me that the only things that get better with age are definitely wine and maybe cheese.  The rest just goes to hell, sometimes, literally, and almost all the time, figuratively.

My thoughts came to a head today during and after visiting my grandma at the nursing home in Clara City. Mike went with me, and we had a decent visit. I hadn't seen her for a while, so it was good to physically see her. As far as the visit went, Mike and I basically had the same conversation with her about five times over; she just can't retain anything. Likewise, since she is in the nursing home, she really doesn't know anything either by which she could add to the conversation. She is desperate to converse but is painfully aware that she can't because even though she can't remember what she just said, she does remember that she can't remember.  Does that make sense? Well, it does to me.

We gave her a Christmas gift while we were there; it was a fiber optic angel. In her lucid years, Grandma was an avid collector of angel paraphernalia. That's why I purchased the angel for her.  To explain, my mom and my uncle, Steven, reached a satisfactory settlement, which meant that all of Grandmas items needed to be divvied up so that Steven and Charlyn could move in to Grandma's house. Therefore, I recently acquired several pieces of her angel arsenal, which caused me to think of such a gift for her. After receiving it, Grandma seemed to really enjoy it as she stared at it frequently and said, "I have never seen anything like it; thank you very much." While I am thrilled that she enjoyed the gift, I'm saddened by what Grandma has become.

She is a shell, physically and mentally. As to her physical appearance, she has not only strunk in size; she also resembles a nursing home resident, which means her hair is wonky - flat in the back from sleeping on it - and her clothes are functional versus fashionable. My grandma used to be a classy, snappy dresser.

Worse, her mental state is deeply affected. My grandma had the mental acuity and stubbornness of steel.  Now, she cries on a dime. It doesn't take much. . .the mention of Grandpa or how much she wants to go "home" (heaven) causes her to lose her grip. It's tough to see.

Prior to the whipped cream mental state that she currently resides in, Grandma passed through another unfamiliar stage - anger and bitterness.  When she moved off the farm and into assisted living, she underwent another sort of mental metamorphosis. Even though I could speculate as to the origin of such rancor (which would not be a productive use of my time), suffice it to say that a bitter power struggle erupted amongst the three (some might say, two) forces in the nuclear family consisting of Grandma, Mom, and Steven, which has lead us to the current state of affairs today.

My case has been, hands down, proven that the aging process has either destroyed my grandma, or (and more terrifying to consider) it has unearthed my grandma's true character.  That's the part I really don't want to consider, especially since I see it happening to others whom I have known for a long time as well.

For example, it does not escape my attention that my uncle, Steven, falls into this category as well. When I was a kid, he was my favorite uncle because he was so easy-going and fun to be around. He was so easy to visit with, was so kind, and always seemed genuinely interested in anything that my brother or I had to say.

His actions in the last few years, however, have been a complete 180 from the uncle I thought I knew.  Based on what I have been told and seen with regard to Grandma, the farm, and my mom and her family (us), my uncle has become greedy and manipulative. . .a bully. . .just plain mean. The part I keep getting stuck on is has getting older changed him, or is this his true nature that was suppressed for many years?

Sidebar: I can't make such claims without stepping back and looking at myself and my own family (Mom, Dad, and Ross). Speaking only for myself, I can honestly say that my personal quest has been to truly become a better version of Melissa as I age. As I examine my actions from twenty years ago to five years ago to last week to yesterday, I fully admit that I have done and said some stupid things and made assumptions that have not represented my faith and Savior in the most positive light. I have examined my actions, been filled with deep regret, and have been filled with a resolve to learn from my mistakes and make better choices. Have I always been successful? No.  Am I constantly trying? Yes.  Is that true for everyone. I don't know.
Am I being judgmental? My intention is not to be judgmental but to look at the facts to either prove or disprove my hypothesis. Do I have others examples to support my hypothesis? Maybe.

For example, none of my aunts are the people whom I once knew. The biggest example of this is my aunt, Charlyn. Like Steven, she used to be my favorite aunt because she was so gentle, caring, and attentive.  For every birthday, anniversary, and holiday, everyone in the family always received a card and probably some cash or at least, some sort of thoughtful gift. If she knew that Ross and I would be staying overnight at her house, she always made sure our favorites were on hand - Captain Crunch, Dentyne gum, and Cheetohs.

Now, her behavior is inexplicable. She still sends my kids cards and money for birthdays, and she and Steven gave Nick a generous graduation gift, but they didn't show up. The reason that was given was that Steven was too busy planting navy beans, so they couldn't come. These are the people with whom we spent every birthday, and they didn't show up this huge event. Again, is this inner bitterness attributed to aging, or is this the real Charlyn that has emerged?

My other aunts have not been involved in my life since my grandparents passed away. There was a brief and shocking family explosion after my Grandpa Ryks passed away. Inexplicably and out of character, my aunt and uncle made accusations against my parents regarding Grandpa and Grandma Ryks's stuff. And even though I have no proof, I get the sense that my aunt harbors latent anger (toward me) since the passing of my cousin, Lisa. Yes, she is angry because her daughter is gone, but I also get the sense that she is angry because I am alive while her daughter is dead. I know that sounds weird and irrational, but a mutual friend of ours said the same thing. (I have another aunt, but I have never really known her, and that's a whole different story).

My point in throwing all this out there isn't to show that I am superior and that my relatives are all morally corrupt.  My point is to try to figure what the hell is going on and why the hell people have changed so much. Why, as people age, do they become so selfish, bitter, and greedy? Is it because they are pissed off about the lives they lead and how life hasn't worked out the way they planned? Most everybody I know has experienced this dilemma associated with middle age. . .those of us who have reached a certain age start taking inventory regarding which of our dreams we achieved, which of these dreams have moved up in priority for achievement, and most devastatingly, which we have to let go. Is disappointment in life the impetus for the change in persona?

And what is with the strong vein of selfishness? Perhaps I have been misguided into thinking that everyone eventually recognizes futility, immaturity, and spiritual degredation that selfishness is tied to - that this realization causes us to strive to lead lives that are more others-oriented - that we discover true spiritual growth occurs when we put God first and others second. Or maybe no one really cares about spiritual growth. Do we all eventually revert back to the self-centered natures we exuded as children?  Ugh, gross. Count me out if that's the case.

So what's the answer? I don't know. What I do know is that I do not want that to happen to me. I do not want to become bitter, cranky, selfish, and greedy. That is not the person God created me to be.