grandmother.

i went to the stewart house today to see my grandmother.  i literally haven't seen her in months.  she has Alzheimer's.  it's heartbreaking to watch the constant state of confusion on her face when people are around that she used to know; children she raised; grandchildren she rocked.  i guess that's why i've stayed away for so long.  it's very selfish of me, but i want so badly for her to know me.  just a flicker of recognition in her eyes.  i used to stay with her and my granddaddy every day while my parents worked.  she played with me, made my lunch, took me on picnics in the red wagon, and rocked me to sleep.  today she introduced herself to me and asked my name.  

Alzheimer's is a horrible disease.  it's like a poison that seeps in and steals your memories, everything you have and know about yourself so that you're no longer sure about anything or anyone, and you have nothing but the fog of confusion as your constant.

my grandmother has always been the most beautiful person i've ever seen.  when i was little, i relished for days the compliment my grandfather gave me.  he said i reminded him of my grandmother when she was young.  i know it was really just my eyes, but still.  that's enough for me.  

she used to whistle hymns and the beatles.  i held her hand all the time and she would swing my hand back and forth while she sang "i wanna hold your hand".  she always made us popsicles out of grape juice and let us dribble it all over our white shirts.  we took walks every day and had picnics at big rock.  we had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, marshmallows, juice, and peppermints.  on new year's eve, all of my cousins would spend the night at her house and eat terribly.  we'd stay up until midnight and at the stroke of 12 we'd throw confetti outside, shoot bottle rockets, and my granddaddy would dip her and give her a loud kiss.  she used to rock me to sleep in the afternoons in an old mustard-colored rocker, and she'd wind up a little music box with a woodpecker on it.  one time when i was spending the night she asked where i wanted to sleep, and i said, "the closet".  so we slept in the closet.  and she woke me up by tickling my nose with her toes.  on one of our walks a snake slithered across the road.  a big black one.  when i started to get upset, she asked if i was afraid of it.  i nodded, so she took off after it, laughing and telling it to "get on".  i couldn't even believe it.  

oh i miss her so much sometimes it aches.  i want her to know me, to know my children, and i want them to know her too.  i miss my granddaddy too.  he's the one that kept her memory intact for so long.  after he died, she just kept slipping away a little more every day.  i just get so sad for her.  all she wants is to go home and be with joe.  one day soon, grandmother, you'll get to go home and be with him.  and when i see you there, you'll know me too.