Nothing Much, I Just Want to Be Able to Sleep Well Again

I kept on waking almost after every hour through dawn. My grandfather was snoring loudly. That was occasional, so I felt kind of wary. Every time my grandfather snores that way, I'm certain he's having dyspnea, 'difficulty of breathing,' and this scares me; it gives me the morbid feeling that he's on the verge of having a mild stroke which may graduate into a fatal heart attack. Some might say that I should see it coming, since my grandfather is 89; and to think that he has recently been diagnosed as having an aortic aneurysm. But can you blame me for worrying much about him? Whatever others might have to say--that whatever happens to my grandfather will no longer be my fault--I still feel that he's my sole responsibility. I know I will always feel guilty when Death finally claims him.

I no longer sleep well these days, since several months already. Sometimes, no amount of food intake nor consolation from my family and friends can take away my woes. I know that only I have the power to convince myself that I should be stronger both in physicality and spirituality to be able to surpass this exhausting predicament into which I've been thrown. I just hope that my relatives--no, my clan!--realize that. Because sometimes, with the words that they say, it seems like I should be the one to give thanks to having been chosen to serve as my grandfather's caregiver for the rest of his life. Okay, I appreciate this chance--of finally getting to Canada, where opportunities and grand possibilites await--but I hope they someday realize that I'm paying this "chance of a lifetime" with my own health--physical, mental, and emotional. No, I'm paying this chance with my own life. If not for my family in the Philippines and for my own future family with Charlotte, I would have long gone insane. No, I would have killed myself long before my grandfather meets his own death.

It pains me to learn that some friends and acquaintances, and even relatives, think that I'm having an elegant life here in Canada. Sorry to disappoint them--but I'm having a miserable life here, for all they know. Imagine yourself being stuck in the house virtually every day, to take care of your very old grandfather, unable to go out on your own even on weekends, unable to sleep well, even unable to be alone in some corner of the house for long because your grandfather cannot stay in one place for long without you on his sight. Is this your idea of an elegant life? Tell me.

What I feel is that I'm living a prisoner's life. I've been like this for more than a year now. How much longer can I endure this kind of life? Pardon my frustration, but most of the times the eLf in me cannot dominate my humanity. At the end of my every sickening day, I am reduced to a heap of a miserable human longing to regain his freedom.

I want my freedom back! I want to be able to walk at my normal pace. I'm starting to worry because I'm now used to walking very slow like my grandfather. Since that I am able usually to go out outside or to the mall only when I'm with him, I noticed that I already feel awkward walking at my own pace. Am I getting old, too? I want to be able to sleep well. Perhaps this is the reason up until now I'm still the same old lanky guy I always was. For how can I gain weight when I feel like the weight of the world is on my left shoulder?

I want my freedom back! I want to sleep well at night. Is this such an extravagant wish too hard to realize? Oh, heaven knows I'm miserable now...

aLfie