At the foot of my grandparents bed
Spending more time with Lolo and Lola has been really wonderful.
From the hallway, the noise of the respirator bellows, an ever present reminder that Lolo Al continues to use everything he has in the pursuit of his next breath. The room he and Lola sleep in every night, dimly lit by faux candles show details of the struggle of my grandfather these past few years. Tools to gauge the strength of his lungs, a full size machine that he slept in early on in his sickness, the nurse who sits idle, peering between her phone and the labored breaths of my grandfather. As Lolo breathes uncomfortably, Lola sleeps peacefully; often, the two are holding hands.
The best medical care money can buy has allowed me the experience of seeing my grandparents love, for even though their bodies have aged, my grandfather unable to walk under his own strength, the test of their lives previous allow them to continue on together. In many ways, it's as if the body becomes less important. Machines and doctors have saved my grandfather's life a handful of times. Yet in the midst of tough circumstances, his mind has not receded in anyway. Now, he tries to find the strength in his lungs to speak his mind.
So then there's me, sitting here at 5:55am, recently returned from China with my dad and my Chinese grandfather. To see the difference in my families has been real insight into the different cultures of the world. As US news media continues to shout about seemingly nonsensical things in these times of public fear and when atrocities are being committed daily, do we forget that so many are simply struggling to survive in the first place?