Love...With or Without the Memories


Tonight, for the very first time, my grandfather didn't know who I was. 

When he first started displaying Dementia symptoms, I would have to remind him WHICH granddaughter I was, but never before have I had to tell him that I AM his granddaughter.  I was visiting my grandmother in the hospital and he was sitting on the other side of her, watching me talk, with his head cocked to one side.  Finally, he said "I know your speech patterns....and your voice....but I don't know who you are."  I smiled and said "That's Ok Grandpa, it's me, M.  My hair is different today."  And a little piece of my heart fissured behind my smile, but not just for me.  For him - because every time that happens (when he has to admit that he can't remember something) there's this small flash of something that darts across his face and makes my heart bleed.  It's some horrible combination of sadness, frustration, shame, and sometimes even fear.  He KNOWS that he was supposed to already know the answer to whatever he just asked you, and he had to humble himself enough to ask it anyway.

Does it hurt to have to tell your grandparent who you are?  Yes.  But I have to imagine that it sucks a whole lot worse to be the one asking people.  Imagine that you get in your car, start driving,  then forget where you were going...and don't know where you are...or how to get home.  Or that you get to work and they tell you that you don't work there anymore - don't you remember?  Or that you're visiting someone and while you're there, you can't remember who they are, how you know them, or how you got there.  Or that you have a row of medicine in front of you and you know it's important that you take the right pills, but you don't know what day it is or if you already took medicine today or not.  Personally, I think that sounds like a daily living hell.

Now, since we agree that having Dementia would be like a nightmare that you can't wake up from, let's ask this:  Why do we get impatient when someone with Dementia needs us to repeat something?  Why do we feel the need to correct them constantly?  (Noooo, your husband/wife died 10 years ago.  Noooo, your daughter lives in Texas now.  Noooo, you don't live at home any more.)  What's the point?!  They're going to ask again in ten minutes!  Do you really need to upset them every 10 minutes?!  For Pete's sake, if you get bored repeating yourself then make up something new!  Tell them you work for NASA and just got back from space.  Or use an Australian accent and tell them you just got back from your last modeling job in Paris.  You'll have fun and they'll be entertained, rather than upset and depressed about all the crap you're telling them that they're supposed to be remembering about you (whoever the hell you are...).

With that being said, the second reason my heart cracked was for my grandmother. She's in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, hooked up to 20 machines, and yet she repeated herself as many times as he asked anything. And every time she said it, she answered him like it was the first time...every single time.  They've been together 54 years and have never been apart.  It causes me physical pain to watch them together and hear in my head (on repeat) - "What would it be like to spend 54 years giving my heart, my soul, and my body to the man I love.....then have to start waking up every morning wondering if today's going to be the day that he doesn't recognize me anymore."  (If you're crying right now, that's ok...so am I...like a baby.)

In this family, we don't sit around moping about such things, however, so I will not end my post on a sad note.  My grandfather might not know whether I'm M the School Teacher, Natalie the Nurse, or Dora the Explorer, but he still has his sense of humor and I plan on making many more great memories with him while I'm blessed enough to have him around. 

As we left the hospital today, he said "It's cold outside.  I'm not sure why I didn't bring my coat."  My Dad told him that he left it in the car.  "Well, that was foolish.  It's definitely not summer out here."  We told him it was January.  "Is it? Well...I guess all the damn snow on the ground should have been a clue, huh?"  And then we all laughed and joked about it.  Because that's what you do when life gets hard, you smile about what might happen tomorrow...not cry about what happened today or yesterday - especially if one of you doesn't remember today or yesterday anyway!  *wink*


♥M