Z/Web

Today was not a good day. The family had come to the uncomfortable decision that Grandpa most likely will not be able to come home, though we might still try to figure out a way (we’re still not sure how well Grandpa is or isn’t). After half a day of analyzing finances and trying to predict the future, my mom visited Grandpa (I was in bed with my cold) and found that he still can’t really walk (though he thinks he can), and that he’s got to be out of the care facility where he’s at by this Sunday. It was evening by the time my mother was to go home so I suggested she stay at my place rather than drive home in the cold and dark, and she agreed. She telephoned her friend that’s been watching Monica, her little crippled Pomeranian, and learned — what timing! — that Monica passed away yesterday at about three o’clock. My mom was devastated. Though the news wasn’t completely unexpected as the dog’s always been weak and over Christmas got so bad that she could no longer walk, it was still very difficult news to hear. In a way it was crueler that it happened while we were gone but it another way it was a blessing that she didn’t have to deal with it directly. Still, the timing, with Grandpa’s situation foremost in our minds, could not have been worse. My mom’s gone through a lot the past few years: Ben’s brain injury and personality change, the divorce, moving to Oregon, her own diagnosis and struggle with rheumetoid arthrisis, the dog’s medical issues, and various emergencies with Grandpa, and Monica was her sole constant and comfort during that time. Now she’s gone. It’s a tough time.