I know about guilt when it comes to grandmothers. Mine lived with us for over a year when I was a sophomore in high school, and she required a great deal of serious care that I was often called on to provide to her because my mom was not dealing well with my grandfather’s death and was going to Bingo almost seven nights a week (because she and my GF used to go together). My GM was severely overweight, diabetic, and paralyzed on her right side. She couldn’t speak (except for one multipurpose syllable, “Bah”) nor walk. I helped her in and out of bed, her portable toilet, and recliner (as a then-110-pound 5’2” girl). I bathed her, wiped her, and gave her insulin shots. I prepared her meals and helped her eat (she did pretty well with that on her own). I watched endless hours of baseball with her. All of this while also watching and caring for my sister, who was 5 at the time.

So needless to say I was resentful. And I didn’t hide it very well (I was 15, in my defense). And now I sometimes feel guilty. I console myself by hoping that my GM knew it was really too much to be asked of me, and that she understood why I was resentful. I try to think of her, wherever she is now, being able to see in my heart and know how much I love her and how sorry I am.

The worst part of that year was that as poorly as my mom handled things, she was the only one of my GM’s six kids who would even consider taking her in on a long-term basis, never mind that they were all better off (my dad was on disability and my mom was a waitress). When it became too much, she tried once again to get any of her siblings to take my GM in, but she ended up in a nursing home. She died a couple of years later. I’m sure my mom struggles with that, too.

Sorry, I know that’s a lot to say. I just wanted you to know that I can relate and tell you a little about how I have handled it.