Dear Daughters,
One morning last week I woke up and walked sleepily into the den on my way to the kitchen. It always takes me a while to adjust to the bright sun and the new day. I like quiet and peace in the morning – and a cup of tea.
As I walked through the den, Grandpa was reading the morning paper and I said Good Morning just like I always do. He saw me coming and his first sentence was one of panic. I CAN’T HEAR A THING! MY EAR WENT BONKERS! ALL OF A SUDDEN EVERYTHING JUST WENT BLANK!!! I’M GOING TO BE DEAF JUST LIKE MY MOTHER!
Whoa, hold on, I’m not quite ready for all this so early in the morning.
I vaguely remembered this happening one other time and it was because wax somehow suddenly dropped into his ear canal (he only has one working ear) and plugged everything. Producing a plethora of ear wax is a gift that Grandpa has been given, for better or worse.
I called his ear doctor and the friendly receptionist found an appointment for him that same day. I think she noted the urgency in my voice.
Since we left plenty early and a car wash was on the way, we decided to stop in. As we were driving up Grandma thought it said Ear Wash, so she and I started discussing how handy it would be to drive through with Grandpa’s window down and get his ear cleaned at the same time, saving a trip to the ear doctor. We decided against it.
We had another short errand to do while we were in town – a trip to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get a registration for the new ATV that Grandpa had just purchased.
As we were walking into the building we had the following conversation:
Grandma: Why are we here?
Me: To get a registration for the new ATV.
Grandma: I didn’t know we got a new one. Where was I?
Me: At home. DAD, LET’S GO IN THIS LINE.
Over here, Mom.
OK, DAD, YOU NEED TO SIGN RIGHT HERE BY THE X
Grandpa: SIGN WHERE?? (Since he has a serious tremor he had his signature stamp that he uses for official documents)
Grandma: Why are we here?
Me: To get a registration for the new ATV.
Grandma: I didn’t know we got a new one. Where was I?
Me: At home. OK DAD, IT WILL COST 8 DOLLARS
Grandpa: HOW MUCH?
Me: (shouting directly in his ear) EIGHT DOLLARS.
Grandma: Why are we here?
Me: To get a registration for the ATV.
Grandma: I didn’t know we got one. Where was I? Are we going to be late for the Doctor? Do you know how to get there?
Me: No, we’ll be early. Yes, I’ve been there many times before.
Grandpa: I’M SURE GLAD THEY HAVE CHAIRS IN HERE SO I CAN SIT DOWN.
Me: Yup.
The friendly DMV guy: I wish I had a cool signature stamp like that, my writing is horrible.
Grandpa: I’M SURE GLAD WE DIDN’T HAVE TO WAIT IN LINE, WE CAME AT JUST THE RIGHT TIME.
Me: Yes, it was wonderful, no wait at all.
Grandma: (as we were on our way out) Why did we come here?
Me: Sigh…..
Every day is an adventure in our household. Living with Grandma who struggles with dementia and macular degeneration and Grandpa who finds it difficult to walk and hear, there are never ending conversations of repetitions and descriptions. Dad and I spend much of our time in laughter, some in tears, other times we simply sit together in silence, lamenting the frailties that come with advancing years.
Just this morning, we were making apple sauce from some of the beautiful Granny Smiths we had picked earlier in the week from Grandpa’s trees. Grandma and I were chatting as we used the nifty peeler/corer that makes our work much easier. Grandma asked where I had learned to use the machine so I mentioned that she had taught me many years ago when I was living at home. She looked at me quizzically and said I think you have me confused with someone else. I’ve never seen this thing in my life.
It still hurts not to be known by my own mother. To her I am the cook, the one who put those pills in the little dishes every night, the picker of garden fruits and vegetables, the one who helps to wash, dry and sort clothes, the lady who gets tea for her in the afternoon and encourages her to play piano every morning.
Even though Dad and I have been living here for almost a year, Grandma will ask if I’m spending the night or do I need to go home and take care of my family.
I feel like she is my little girl and I have become her mother. Much of the time I do my work with joy even though she doesn’t realize who I am. Other times I ache, missing the bond and memories we used to share as mother and daughter.
I weep for what has been lost, disappointed when I realize that she will not get better.
At other times I rejoice for what is coming in the future. Going through this season of life has made me hungry for the coming eternity, my heart longing for our time in heaven when Grandma will know us all once again. I hope for that which Jesus has promised, the renewal of all things:
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. (Hebrews 6:19)
I am grateful that this world is not the end of the matter, but simply a preparation for the magnificent future awaiting us, a heaven where there is no dementia, no blindness, deafness, or aging. Looking forward to this frees me to love now and helps take away some of the pain of loss. Our current life is much easier to enjoy simply because I know the best is yet to come.
Loss doesn’t rule, hope does.
Love, Mom
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