“I can’t tolerate this anymore. It’s taking a toll on my physical health.” These were the last words I wrote to my biological father regarding his mother, my grandmother.
As I sit in bed, typing this blog, I glance at my phone and see a missed call and voicemail from my grandmother. The same woman who, for most of my life, has been emotionally unstable—whether she realized it or not.
Can you imagine not wanting to talk to your 92-year-old grandmother because it’s taking a toll on your mental, emotional, and physical health? It’s a tough pill to swallow, but one that I’ve had to face.
On what planet does a psychosis-inducing sweet 92-year-old grandmother exist? Surely not on Earth.
But, for me, that’s exactly who my grandmother was.