Dear Daughters,
The days with Grandpa and Grandma are getting curious and curiouser.
Yesterday I heard a timid knocking at my bedroom door. It was Grandma telling me that Grandpa’s hand was bleeding; she didn’t know how to stop it and needed my help – quickly. I walked to the den with her where Grandpa was contentedly reading his book about American Indians. I asked how his hand was doing and he showed me a small scratch with a few drops of blood on it. Apparently he had been scratching Fluffy on the ears and was rewarded with a swipe of her paws.
Next, Grandma brought me to the bathroom where she had been trying to find some Bandaids. Scattered across the sink were the contents of several drawers – adhesive tape, a roll of gauze, an Epipen, several Alberto V05 hairdressing tubes, Grandpa’s razors, liquid skin, and an ear/nose trimmer. Because of her dementia she could not discern which of those articles would be helpful for Grandpa’s injury. She loves him so much. I looked at the collection of objects and chuckled in my mind, yet saddened that her ailing thoughts were incapable of choosing the correct item.
It’s so interesting, yet at times frustrating, to observe how a mind that used to be so sharp is now wandering, confused and weary. I know she tries her hardest to do her best, yet the thoughts don’t connect like they used to. However, Grandma is always happy, often whistling, content, and for that I am grateful.
Every morning I help Grandma pick out her clothes and coach her as she dresses because it is becoming an overwhelming task on her own. One day I was looking for her long johns, which she wears 9 months out of the year, and noticed there were none. So I searched in surrounding drawers, nothing there either. I finally went to the dresser across the room and found them scattered among many other miscellaneous clothing items. She tries to organize and help, but it sometimes turns into Hide and Seek/Search and Find, a game we play often.
Then it is Piano/Whistling Time. With simply some written prompts Grandma can play any song on the list. I must have over a hundred songs written down on 4 x 6 cards and she plays them all beautifully, artistically, fancy flourishes and arpeggios included. She can still whistle many bird calls, learned as a child and performed professionaly. Her dementia is nonexistent for a time, and she is queen of the piano once again.
On another day I had just put on the tea kettle to boil and left my mug with cold water sitting on the sink. I had to go back to my bedroom to get my book and when I got back I was ready for a drink of water, but my mug was nowhere to be seen. So I went again to my bedroom thinking I must have forgotten it there. Not so. Back to the kitchen again thinking I’m losing my mind. Oh well, I figured I better just keep to the task at hand. I continued getting tea ready for Grandma and Grandpa. Reaching into the cupboard I grabbed the first 3 mugs I saw to fill them with the now boiling water. As I pulled the mugs out I was splashed in the face with cold water from one of them which, of course, was my missing mug filled with water. Apparently Grandma, always the neat and tidy one, thought the mug belonged in the cupboard, not realizing it was full of water. It was quite surprising, yet refreshing….
Grandma loves to help fold laundry. Because her vision is so poor I give her towels, handkerchiefs, and other straight edged articles to fold which she does beautifully. One day I gave her a kitchen dishcloth to put away, and said “It goes in the 3rd drawer down.” I heard her go into the kitchen saying 1, 2, 3 (pause) 1, 2, 3 (pause) 1, 2, 3 (pause). Later I noticed that the dishcloth was sitting alone on the sink. The task must have been too baffling.
I’m slowly learning what is doable and what is just too complex for Grandma to do. The interesting thing is that it changes from day to day. I try to always keep alert and search for the right words to connect with what she can comprehend.
Usually when she needs help she will call out “Help!” or “Hellooooo.” But the other morning I heard her calling out “Ding-a-ling-a-ling.” I walked to her room and teasingly asked if she was calling me a Ding-a-ling.
“Oh no,” she replied. “I was just being like a bell.”
Smile.
Last week Dad and I were able to get away for a few nights, so we went up to Sun Valley. Mountains, gorgeous mountains, fresh air, evergreens and quaking aspens – my favorite tree as the wind through the leaves makes a delicate, quivering sound. How the days flew quickly by, and too soon it was time to return home again.
As I walked through the door, Grandma was coming down the hall without her teeth or glasses, shuffling in her bathrobe. I greeted her and gave her a hug. “Who are you?” she asked, “Are you Willow?”
“No, it’s me, Shari,” I smiled.
Now I know our dog is friendly but I don’t ever remember Willow saying hello or giving hugs. I tried not to be offended, but it was kind of an unusual welcome-home greeting. The categories in her mind are being confused, but at least it’s all in the same category of living creatures….
A few weeks ago Grandma, Grandpa and I went to Twin Falls for a doctor’s appointment among several other stops. We three were together the entire morning and got home just in time for lunch, so I went to drop my stuff off in my room. I came back to the kitchen to start heating the soup and preparing sandwiches. Grandma came into the kitchen as well, saw me and said, “So, how was your morning?”
“Good,” I answered.
“What did you do while we were gone?”
“Well, I actually was along with you this morning, I was your driver,” I replied.
“You’re kidding!” she exclaimed.
“Nope, it was me all along.”
Everything is new, everything is fresh, always a surprise.
“It’s OK, Carol, you’ll probably remember better tomorrow,” Grandpa often says after she exposes her fading short-term memory.
Some days I find my time here a joy, other times it’s difficult – just like all of your lives. How kind of Jesus to put us right where He wants us in order to learn to love.
Keep on keeping on….
Love, Mom
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