Star Wipe

In movies or television shows, time goes by as quickly as the directors want it to. Actors can be stretching in bed one moment and then seemingly be at work with the help of a star wipe. Editors and directors do this time transition because they know we wouldn’t watch the mundane aspects of life. Unless it was slightly absurd or important to the plot, We wouldn’t sit through someone else’s full morning routine. Unfortunately in our life, real life, we don’t have the option of a star wipe. We brush our teeth, tease our hair(just me?), eat our eggs in quiet contemplation and then after a 30 minute drive, arrive at work. Sometimes we relish in the time between the drama. Other times, we distract ourselves from in. It never stops though. And more often than not the “dull time” is noticed the most when waiting. 

Currently I’m 3 weeks post op from having my testicle removed. I’ve returned to work and returned to running, slowly. I am mostly healed. And except for an unreal amount of pain whenever I sneeze (I’d compare it to a tablespoon of wasabi down the hatch, as quick to leave and as painful as a Vin Deisel drama) there is virtually none. The pain is really in the waiting. My doctor’s office scheduled my CT scan for this coming week. My post op appointment with him as well as another round of blood work was two weeks ago. After the scan and the blood work results I will meet with a variety of doctors for a “tumor board”….maybe it’s “tumor bored”. Or even “It’s not a tumor” board. Just kidding, it was totally a tumor. A  7cm sitting on top of my testicle, tumor. Think about that gentlemen. That’s like having an AA battery attached to the top of your testicle. 

The tumor board will go over the best form of treatments for me. Best case scenario: My blood levels normalized and the scan shows nothing. That means: No chemo. Worst case scenario:  My blood levels didn’t normalize enough and the scan reveals more demon spawn cells in my body. Which means, chemo. I trust my doctor; he’s good at what he does. But there’s still the waiting game. The thinking game. The anxious game. 

While I’m enjoying and distracting myself from my own waiting game, my grandmother is as well. To put it simply, she’s waiting to die. I feel like she wouldn’t mind me saying that. It’s the truth and she’s never one to shy away from the truth. Blunt, my grandmother (my Mimi as we call her) is blunt. People that are blunt can often be misunderstood for assholes (which she has claimed to be on multiple occasions). She’s not an asshole though. 

To me, she’s always been kind and loving. I can’t attest to her parenting skills, I never knew her then. I hardly knew her when her husband died and I knew her even less as I grew from grade school to high school. A period of time i refer to as  “the awkward years”. 

Sure, I knew her. I knew she existed and she was close enough to visit. Which we did. A couple times a year. The past decade though I’ve spent the time knowing her in ways I should have all while growing. It’s very possible my adolescent mind couldn’t have handled knowing her like I do or her swearing.

Today i visited her in the hospital. We talked about how we were glad that we got to know each other like we do now. 

I’ve been writing and deleting now for several minutes trying to describe our relationship. I wanted to articulate it just right. I guess the best word I’m looking for is simply, Mimi. She’s my Mimi, my grandmother. And I’m her grandson. There’s 12 of us grandkids total (I think) and I’m one of them. I feel overwhelmingly lucky to know this woman even if it’s for the short time that I have. 

I feel luckiest because in this time I didn’t have to observe a barage of shortcomings or weaknesses. We all have these things. I know she’s had them, she’s human. She’s not perfect. No one else is either. The difference between my Mimi and everyone else’s though is that she’s genuine. And anyone that knows her as well as I do knows she expects the truth because she’ll give you nothing but the truth in return. She is a dying breed of human that is not afraid to be themselves. I only hope I can instill the same truths and lessons into my kids and my grandkids.

For however long we have to wait, for however mundane it can be, the time goes by easier when we wait with the people we love and the people we learn from. 


One thought on “Star Wipe

  1. April kilbury

    That is the sweetest thing you could ever say about my mother. And it’s so true. You know her better that you think. Even better than some who have known her all their lives.
    Thank you, Drew!

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