I find myself getting irritated with situations that I encounter with the woman that used to be my grandmother. Little things like her constantly disciplining the boys, even after I tell her things are fine. Or her getting onto me for disciplining my boys when they truly deserved it. Or her coming into the room and turning off the television that we were all watching. Or her telling me to do the same thing, over and over, everytime she walks into the room. It is these situations that I have to take a step back and remind myself why I do this. This woman is not my grandmother anymore, this disease has taken over her mind and she is not there. Every now and then grandma will emerge with a familiar story. But then she disappears again when she tells the story to me over and over. It is my job to take care of this woman. To clean up after her messes, to overlook her telling me the same stories over and over and seem interested everytime, to tolerate the hostilities she sometimes expresses, to make sure she gets the correct medication on time. And this is why...
Growing up I always had a place to go. It was my grandparent's house. I always had someone there waiting after school. I always had food to eat, because whatever was in the fridge was "yours if you want it" and I always wanted it! If I wanted to play beauty shop then grandma would have barretts all over her head by the time mom came to pick me up. If I wanted to play horse then both my grandparents would get down on all fours and let me ride on their backs and they would be tied up to the dining room table when mom got there to pick me up. I played dress up, got into all her costume jewelry, learned to sew, learned to garden, learned to cook. This woman was a fountain of knowledge and she was all mine, or at least that's how I felt. I always had a ride to voice lessons, pom practice, ball games, anywhere I wanted to go. Now don't get me wrong, I have the best mom in the world who has always had time for me. But, I have two other sisters who also had practice and needed to go here or there. So, it was nice to have my grandparents as just one more thing I could count on. They were my rock. As I grew up my needs and wants changed but their desire and ability to help me never did. I never lacked for love and support from them. Until now.
Anytime I would step foot into the house, a sense of calm would come over me. I knew I was safe. When my marriage fell apart it was no suprise that I came running back to my safe haven, my grandparent's house. Unfortunately I didn't find it the way I'd remembered it just years before. What I found was a widow that was barely hanging onto the ability of living alone. We lost my grandfather nine years ago so grandma was doing okay being without him, but she was living in a new world with this disease. I am so sorry that I didn't realize sooner how bad she was getting, but I thank God everyday that I am here now.
I owe so much to both my grandparents that I can never repay them. But the thing with family is, they don't keep score. There was no running tally in my grandmother's head of all the things she did for me. There was never any question of what she would get in return. There was only pure love and the complete desire the help however she could. Even if I didn't ask for it sometimes. All she ever wanted to do was help me. And now I am given the opportunity to do the same.
I get aggravated and irritated daily. I don't know if I can take another day. I consider moving out and getting my own place with my own things and my own rules. And then I remember why I do it...and I wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
