“You're so
beautiful," said Alice. "I'm afraid of looking at you and not knowing
who you are."
"I think that even if you don't know who
I am someday, you'll still know that I love you."
"What if I see you, and I don't know that
you're my daughter, and I don't know that you love me?"
"Then, I'll tell you that I do, and
you'll believe me.”
― Lisa
Genova, Still Alice
I just
recently spent a week with my grandma out in Nebraska. She is 94. She’s been a
real crackerjack all my life. I hate what Alzheimer’s is putting her
through. I told her I loved her so many
times during that week, it might have seemed like I was the one with neurons firing
improperly. Sometimes Gramma’s gaze was far off, but sometimes she would look into me and say “I love you too… and I really
mean it.” I’ve never felt anything but
love from my grams, and I still feel it.
Sometimes beautiful
Carmen struggled to get the right words out, and when they made no sense my
heart sank for her. Many times I discovered that I was biting my lip to keep
tears at bay. I was determined not to cry. This is so much worse for her than
me. Changing and bathing and bathroom
duties compromised her dignity and clearly caused her stress. She’d tell me I’d
lost my gold star as I tried to help quickly and gently. Sometimes “no gold
star” became “leave me alone, asshole” and inside I’d smile Yay, Grams, crystal clear, all the words
where they should be.
I’ve got the
world on a string
I’m sitting
on a rainbow
Got the
string around my finger
What a
world, what a life – I’m in love
When Noah
was just a babe, Gram would sing that song to him and when he became a talker,
he’d sing it back—in person, on the phone. It was their song. So much time had passed since I’d heard it, and then
there they were sitting on the sofa together, Noah with his computer playing
the song for her on itunes and she’s swaying with the melody, a smile across
her face.
Life’s a wonderful thing
As long as I hold the string
I’d be a
silly so-and-so
If I should
ever let her go
Link to Alzheimer's Walk
