A Sad Evening

My grandfather is ninety years old. He's a wonderful man, and has been in pretty good shape. Tonight wasn't so good. My younger brother lives with him, but was out tonight. Grandpa had a little too much wine, and tripped getting out of his chair, falling flat on his face. His glasses were pushed into his nose, cutting it in two places and making it swell twice its size, and he wrenched his shoulder. He had also forgotten he had put a pot of water on for tea, and the pot had boiled dry. We went to the hospital to have him checked out, and he's fine. This isn't the first time this has happened, and it always happens after he has had a few glasses of wine.

Nevertheless, I am torn. The man has lived for nearly ninety-one years. He has lived through depressions and wars, survived a flu epidemic that took his father, raised a family and had a successful career, enabling him to retire in financial comfort. And here is his granddaughter, who needed his help just a few months ago to buy a house, having to help him get to the bathroom and scolding him for drinking so much he could have burned the house down. He has to ask for rides to the bank and store now, because he isn't supposed to drive anymore. I can't imagine what this is doing to him. The loss of independence I am feeling now can't even compare. I don't think he is feeling any joy at being alive anymore, and I can't do anything to help him. It makes me very sad.

The good news, which I forgot to mention the other day, is that Peanut has started saying mamamamama. No dadadas in sight. I know she isn't actually calling me Mama yet, but I don't care. Every few months, she does something that makes me so happy that I can't imagine being happier, and then a few months later she tops it. It's truly amazing.