under construction.

Welcome to the story about my 3+ years as live-in caregiver for my grandmother. My writing will generally refer to her as Frannie. A month after I move in I was no longer her granddaughter. She saw me as her best friend, worst enemy, and husband. I was anything but favorite granddaughter, like before I moved in. It most cases I’ll refer to her as “my person” instead of “loved one.” I stopped loving her. Maybe you stopped loving your person too. It’s taken four years after her death for me to understand what we had. It’s why I kept a journal at all, so I wouldn’t beat myself up when it was over. I wrote daily morning notes for myself before I opened my bedroom door. She would be sitting at the kitchen table with coffee. If the sun wasn’t shining I was greeted with, “It’s going to be a miserable day.” My logo here is a cleaned up version of a jar of pickles I drew for my nephew. I wrote, “Today I made pickles with G.G.”

All of the photos will be from before (pre-2018), during (2018-2022), and after (2022-present) Frannie. Most of the photos won’t match the writing, but I’ll have brief descriptions for each one. The “before” is just as important as the during and after. Some photos will be used as writing prompts for a blog post. I want to share the nuances of caregiving and bring other caregivers some peace within that while allowing myself to move through and forward.