Braden Bryce

Gramma has been in the hospital for longer than I’d thought she had any reason to, assuming she was going to be getting better and going home. I just got the call I’ve been expecting from my sister. She’d just gotten back to her own home from visiting Gramma, and wanted to fill me in on Gramma’s condition.

She’s hallucinating, and my sister says that she’s “Gramma” only maybe ten percent of the time. My sister has no idea what course of action to recommend. Pull my son from school for a couple days and make an immediate visit? Wait for the weekend and see what happens? Neither of us knows.

Gramma has been alone for so very long. Her beloved Danny died decades ago, and her own son neglected her and then rejected her. He’s had no contact with her since she told him that she knew what he’d done. She’s told me more than once that she often wakes up in the morning and wonders why, exactly, she’s waking up. What does God want?

I don’t know what I’m feeling; I keep veering all over the place. I pray that Gramma finds peace and rest, in whatever way she can. Maybe she will soon be reunited with her Danny. I hope she will be, and that she finds happiness again.

My tinnitus (persistent ringing in the ears) became noticeable to me in 2005 or so. Recently, it seems to me to have gotten yet louder. I can hear it when things get only vaguely calm or quiet.

In doing a bit of research, I’ve learned that the chronic dizziness (caused by the orthostatic hypotension I’ve had since I was fourteen) may have, in part, led to the tinnitus. Also, apparently long-term severe stress can cause or worsen the malady.

How ironic: My husband claims  that he is the one with the hypotension (which started, no doubt, shortly after he starting having his period) and that he suffered years of spousal abuse (he likes to tell people that I would beat him up), and now I may go deaf because of it. It’s almost funny.

I received an odd letter today, ostensibly from the husband of my husband’s newest girlfriend. The man wants to meet to tell me about his wife. How odd.

I’ve run the letter (and my situation) past a couple trusted advisors. One is concerned, in light of previous behavior, about this being a “take down” set-up. The other feels that nothing useful would come of a meeting, but it could be amusing to hear about the girlfriend.

The writer is, I think, Romanian. I’m tempted to follow up with him.

But why?

Late this morning, I walked across the street to the local indoor flea market. While there, I ran across a guy drawing portraits. It was apparent that he was pretty good. I thought about getting my son’s portrait done, but the boy needs a haircut, so I figured I’d wait until some other time.

Then it occurred to me: I’ve had no proper portrait from the last decade or so. Why not get my portrait done?

So I did: