All in the Family
There is nothing I like more than going through old pictures, letters and newpaper clippings at my grandparents house. Grammie was a packrat; she kept everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything! My sister and I found drawers full of memories when we visited them over the weekend.
At first glance, most of the things my grandmother tucked away could seem like junk. But sifting through handwritten notes, yellowing newspaper, Mother's Day cards signed in crayon from one grandkid or another, black and white photos of people long dead, and fragile dried flowers from some long-ago occasion, I started to remember the woman my grandmother was. And I started to cry. See, my grandmother has Alzheimer's and even though she was sitting in the living room, not 15 feet from where I was elbow deep in memories, I missed her with every fiber in my body.
It's been probably close to ten years since Grammie was diagnosed. And with every visit, it gets more difficult to watch as she goes deeper and deeper into herself. In the beginning, she would forget dates and names, but as time went on, she stopped recognizing the faces of her family. It's strange, for a while, she remembered names, but couldn't identify who was who. She knew all of us grandkids, but couldn't seem to reconcile the grown-up versions with the younger versions of us that live in her mind. Every once in a while though, the veil would lift and there would be a spark of recognition in her eyes, if just for a glimmer of a second. Now, even those moments are gone.
The older I get, the more I see parts of my grandmother in me. My sense of humor, my love of reading, my artistic side, my long, thin fingers all came from her. And the sadder I become as I realize that we can no longer share in jokes that only we found funny. I can't send her clips of my writing and ask her opinion on them. But this weekend, I found parts of her I thought were long gone. And I was thankful that she was a packrat. Maybe she knew that one day, her children and grandchildren would go through her treasures and remember.
And I do, Grammie, I remember. I'll always remember.
At first glance, most of the things my grandmother tucked away could seem like junk. But sifting through handwritten notes, yellowing newspaper, Mother's Day cards signed in crayon from one grandkid or another, black and white photos of people long dead, and fragile dried flowers from some long-ago occasion, I started to remember the woman my grandmother was. And I started to cry. See, my grandmother has Alzheimer's and even though she was sitting in the living room, not 15 feet from where I was elbow deep in memories, I missed her with every fiber in my body.
It's been probably close to ten years since Grammie was diagnosed. And with every visit, it gets more difficult to watch as she goes deeper and deeper into herself. In the beginning, she would forget dates and names, but as time went on, she stopped recognizing the faces of her family. It's strange, for a while, she remembered names, but couldn't identify who was who. She knew all of us grandkids, but couldn't seem to reconcile the grown-up versions with the younger versions of us that live in her mind. Every once in a while though, the veil would lift and there would be a spark of recognition in her eyes, if just for a glimmer of a second. Now, even those moments are gone.
The older I get, the more I see parts of my grandmother in me. My sense of humor, my love of reading, my artistic side, my long, thin fingers all came from her. And the sadder I become as I realize that we can no longer share in jokes that only we found funny. I can't send her clips of my writing and ask her opinion on them. But this weekend, I found parts of her I thought were long gone. And I was thankful that she was a packrat. Maybe she knew that one day, her children and grandchildren would go through her treasures and remember.
And I do, Grammie, I remember. I'll always remember.
posted by kcterrilynn at 8:10 AM
2 Comments:
What a sweet post. I wish I were close to my grandmothers.
Have a lovely Thanksgiving. :)
I am so moved by what you wrote. Damn, we have so many similar life experiences. I went through the very similar pains you describe when my grandmother, who passed away two years ago, began to lose her memories and recognition of her loved ones. Even though she was physically present, it was like she was lost in another world which we didn't have access to any more. It broke my heart many, many times. Anyway, I loved what you wrote. Thank you for sharing. *hugs*
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. :)
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