What I've learned Wednesdays...

Leaning heavily on his cane my grandfather stood in front of my grandmother's casket. I stood back as far from the open casket as possible, standing on one side of my mom, my dad on the other, both of us trying to hold her up. My grandfather just stood there. Staring as if trying to wrap his alzheimer ridden mind around the scene in front of him. His wife of sixty years laid out before him. Which is possibly the cruelest trick of all. His mind functions mostly in the past. So he forgets... forgets that his wife is gone... he'll turn to my mom, aunt, or cousin Laura and ask "Where is Effie Mae? When is she coming home?" To which of course the heartbreaking reply is, "Remember she passed away sunday night. You're going to get to see her in heaven." Suddenly he's forced to relive losing her all over again. But this specific time, in this moment, as he stands on unsteady legs in front of his wife's body he knows she's gone. Realizes she isn't coming back. If alzheimers and life was being at all fair he would forget and forget forever... but it's not fair... in this life it's only cruel. And so he stands there. Staring down at her, silently looking, tears streaming down his face. He slowly reaches out his hand to touch her and in that moment I think I hate God. Hate what he is putting this man through. Hate that my dad and I have to physically hold my mother up to keep her from collasping on the floor. Hate that my grandpa is crying. That my uncles are crying. My aunt and her daughter are crying. My mom is crying. And worst of all my dad whose so strong and so tough, always our rock is crying. He's crying for us and I know his crying for his mom who he just lost last October. I hate that I don't understand. That I can't see the big picture. I hate that I don't see the sense in all of this. I hate that I have to see my grandmother in an open casket. Hate that my grandfather now feels all alone. Hate that my mom feels like she lost her best friend. Hate that people are always left with regrets. Hate that I can't do anything. Hate that today is simply the day from hell. Hate that I've got to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. Hate that everything always ends. And I espcially hate having to say goodbye. I hate that I've simply hated everything about today. I guess some days in life are like that. I suppose I should feel blessed that days like this have been few and far between for me. But right now, in this moment, on this Wednesday I've learned that sometimes you just can't get past the hate to appreciate anything else... and sometimes...on some days... hating everything just might be okay.