Sometimes the unknown is far scarier than the known....

My Mother in Law, Lucy, has advanced Alzheimer's Disease.  It has been a gut wrenching, sad, helpless few years since the onset of the disease.  She now lives in a great nursing home with a dedicated Alzheimer's unit. Since she went into the nursing home, my visits to her have decreased.  As she has slipped further and further into the depths of her disease, I have found myself pulling further and further away from her.

Initially, there were decrees from all of us of frequent visits.  The first few months, it was so difficult to go there because she was so angry.  She would get increasingly more agitated as the visits would go on and leaving always ended in tears from both she and us. It got to the point that I wondered why we should bother at all to visit since it gave no one joy. Our visits became less frequent, more welfare checks then real visits.

Initially her poor reception to our departures were the reasons I gave myself for not going as often as I had silently promised I would.  Then the rapid decline into a world where no words made sense and there was no recognition of who we were began, giving me another excuse not to go. And when I did go to see her, I did not take my children, in some sort of weak attempt to protect them from the further pain that this disease could cause them.  The last time we took them to see her was in December.  That's a long time not to see your grandmother when you are 8 and 5, especially when she is still alive, albeit virtually.

My kids watched their grandmother die a million little deaths over the course of a few years.  Every time she lost a memory or an ability, a piece of Lucy died.  I watched my children turn from the children that were cared for by their grandmother, to the children who cared for their grandmother.  I watched my son quietly take her hand in parking lots, not to protect himself from oncoming traffic, but to protect her.  I witnessed both of my kids cozy up under the covers to my mother-in-law on the many, many nights she slept over our house so that she was not scared in a strange room by herself.  I was in awe of their ability to practice patience with their grandmother, despite their mother and father's inability to model that behavior at times.

For months they have been asking to go see her again.  For months I have been hiding when I go visit her, putting them off every time they ask to go. I didn' think they could handle seeing what happened to the Grammy they loved. Until I saw exactly what they were capable of handling. 

My grandfather passed away this month.  I struggled over whether to bring my 8 year old to an open casket funeral.  I brought him to see him when my grandfather was dying and thought that would be his goodbye. But ultimately I decided that if my beloved grandfather listened to World War I go on outside of his window when he was my son's age, my son could certainly handle going to this great man's funeral.  Sure Daniel was apprehensive about going.  But once the initial shock of seeing a dead body was over, he was totally comfortable.  Comfortable enough to touch my grandfather.  Comfortable enough to share his thoughts on my grandfather's greatness in public.  Comfortable enough to be able to honor and respect my grandfather's long and beautiful life.

I decided that if he could handle death, he could certainly handle life, even when it's messy.  So Saturday I rounded up both kids in the car and headed to Middletown, giving them all the somewhat scary information.  I told them that Grammy doesn't look the same. She has no teeth.  Her hair got really long and is very gray.  She has gotten thin.  She speaks gibberish.  She may not remember you at all.  My kids had a hard time with that one.  Daniel especially could not fathom that his beloved Grammy may not remember him.  I told them that even though her brain does not remember them, her heart always will.  We stopped at McDonald's. Got three milkshakes and three cookies and with a deep breath, headed up to the 4th floor. 

They were eating lunch when we arrived. Grammy was seated at the table.  I said 'Lulu, look who is here!" with the hopes that their would be some glimmer of recognition.  Suddenly she got out of her chair and threw her arms around the kids, saying "I love you from the bottom of my heart", clear as day.  Caroline turned to me and whispered "See Mama, you were right, her heart does know us."   And at that moment I silently thanked God for this day because I was so scared that their hearts would be broken.

We sat down.  Daniel helped her with her milkshake.  He kept hugging her.  He told me in my ear "I demand they get her new teeth." I told him that wasn't possible considering how hard it is for her to take care of them and to eat with them now.  He understood that.  The visit lasted about a half an hour.  For some reason my mother in law kept saluting us.  So the kids saluted her back.  Daniel started singing "The Star Spangled Banner" after I prompted him to do it.  SHE STARTED SINGING ALONG. Then I suggested singing 'Happy Birthday" to her and for some reason, she started crying.  Epic Fail on my part there.

The kids walked her down the hall, holding her hands.  My mother always did two things when she she still had her mind.  She worried and tried to feed you.  For some reason, she was worrying about something with the kids as we walked down the hall.   She made us take the cookies home for the kids.  So really, although she is totally gone mentally, her heart still knew the things that were important to her.

We left, silent in the elevator.  As we stepped outside both kids burst into tears.  We sat on a bench outside and spoke for a while. They thought she was alot better than they assumed she was.  They want to go back and see her.  I asked them in they were crying because they were scared.  They both  stated no.  I am not sure why the barrage of tears.  It might have been because of all of the emotions they had built up inside of them.  Once they were calm, I asked them what they thought of the visit. Daniel replied "I am happy I got to hug her".

All of that worry was for naught.  Kids are really simplistic in their ability to understand what is important.  It really did not matter to them that Grammy is not the Grammy she was.  They accept her for the Grammy that she is.  And they know that the Grammy that was is still in the Grammy that is' heart.

First Post of New Blog

I have blogged on and off since 2004.  Over the years I have lost interest in blogging, then picked it up again only to nuke previous blogs after losing interest.
But today I feel like starting anew.  So welcome back to my blog.  I hope I can make you laugh.