it's been a long week with neither time, nor headspace for writing.
my trip home was stressful. my grandmother was in critical condition, the op on monday unsuccesful, and on wednesday, her right leg was amputated mid-thigh. the odds to survive that second operation were apparently 10:90 against survival, but she's pretty much ok right now, if weak, tired and anemic.
i returned down here on tuesday night nontheless, because it was just too taxing to be up there with the parents. when i arrived back here, one of the first things i did was cry for a good little while, because i was so exhausted from the trips to the hospital, supporting my mom (because my dad treated her like shit) and sad about the prospect of my grandma loosing her leg. monday and tueday, i wished she would die before the op. she was extremely weak and non-communicative and it seemed to me as if the docs wanted to operate her, just to put her to sleep, so to say. it seemed to me that it would be better if she didn't have to go through the amputation and the realisation that the leg she has walked on for 93 years is gone now, but for now, she seems to be doing ok. the docs are surprised, and everyone else is. too. she woke up after the op with perfect blood pressure (120/70) - i don't have that good blood pressure ever, really.
my grandma and i, we've talked on the phone pretty much every day. no great conversations or whatever, just brief little chats and she's lovely and sweet and telling me she's "a little better" compared to the day before when i ask her how she is, and i tell her that i love her, think about her and pray for her. she asked me for the latter the day of her op, and i went to the cathedral, lit a candle, and said the prayer's she wanted me to say for her, even though i never really pray this christian way anymore.
so yeah, it's been a strange week in that regard, really.
when the ice train came into the train station tuesday night, dirk waiting on the platform, it felt like much needed coming home. this city is home, for now, finally, and dirk is my home, too.
he had the keys to my flat while i was away, had watched the telly there, slept there, and it was lovely to come home to my place and find it alive, lights on, late night dinner waiting to be cooked for me in the kitchen. it's great to come home to a person that you love.
the weeks has run by somehow, it's saturday already, and in a few hours my friend meals from sydney, currently living in konstanz, will arrive for the weekend. the last time i saw her was in melbourne, in september last year. it's strange how different life is now, compared to back then, how different i am, too. i told her on the phone i wasn't with evan anymore, and she hadn't heard about it yet, and that was strange, too. i hope we'll have a good, quiet time together, with lots of talking and hanging around. it's going to be a really hot weekend, and lounging on a lakeside will quite likely be as adventurous as it gets.
speaking of evan... i finally got an email from him, after three weeks or so, and he tells me he, too, is seeing someone else, which i am happy about, and that he checked out my blog a few weeks ago, which i am not happy about. he never did that when we were together: why now, i wonder, why not earlier? how utterly ridiculous. i just don't get him, but then i don't think i need to get him anymore, so it's all fine and dandy. es ist wie es ist. or whatever.
i hope i will finally have time and headspace for real writing sometime next week.
it's strange how time is rushing past, filled with love and hours in bed and sun and books and talks and people, and i don't chronicle what's happening. i want to remember what happened this summer, years from now, want to remember what i thought, what i did, what i read. is this grasping, wanting more than the now? quite likely. but i am so happy, so thankful for life, this summer, that i want to be able to look back at these days should sadder times ever return.
yes, that is grasping. how silly. but i forgive myself. it's that love thing, which is simultaneously clouding my mind, and opening my eyes.