Alzheimer's sucks. Literally. It sucks the life out of it's victims. It sucks out the light. It is a black-hole of a disease that erases all traces of humanness from it's sufferers. It begins with minor loss of memory... you forget where you put your purse, you forget your keys. It gradually spreads it's blackness throughout the brain and attacks a little deeper, now things like recalling the names of familiar items are more difficult. You confuse items, faces. People you love. You sink deeper into silence and solitude, and you're aware that something is wrong but you can't put your finger on it. Eventually, you become unrecognizable. Alzheimer's attacks and destroys the person you once were.
Some of you may know that my grandmother suffers from this awful disease. She actually got it pretty young, and it has progressed quickly. It has attacked her in horrible ways, erased all of the beautiful things that my grandmother was and has amplified her weaknesses. It is because of this that I haven't seen her in years. She has been in a nursing home for quite a few years now, and I believe I have been there twice. One of those times being last night. My great-grandmother (my grandfather's mother) also had Alzheimer's, and she passed away when I was 12 or 13, I think. But I remember her as being in a state of constant bliss. Ignorance is bliss, as they say, right? Granted, she couldn't recall our names, once stared into the face of one of the little kids in the family and cooed, "What a cute puppy!!!", But she was HAPPY. She had been a woman of God all her life and she wasn't about to let Alzheimer's interfere with her faith, happiness, and love for life. Had this been the case with my grandmother, maybe she wouldn't have progressed so quickly? Who knows... All I know is that the woman in that wheelchair is not my grandmother. It's incredibly difficult for me to see her this way. INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT. Some may find it selfish of me for not having visited more than once or twice, but believe me, it's not that. Besides the fact that my grandmother was a woman full of pride and would never WANT to be seen or remembered this way... I absolutely refuse to think of her this way. Instead I choose to remember the loving, determined, generous woman that used to hug me, let me have sleepovers, and hum the same tunes I hum to my kids today. She was an amazing woman that loved her family very much, and I miss her more than I let myself believe. I used to beat myself up about not seeing her and for not being there, but I don't anymore. I had a dream about a year and a half ago, no doubt out of the guilt I felt for not having seen her, that I went to visit and she was sleeping. I sat next to her bed and put my hand on hers and she woke up. She started coherently talking to me....she was cured! She went on to tell me that throughout the entire sickness she was aware of everything going on around her, but the disease had immobilized her and she couldn't speak. I apologized for not visiting more often and cried to her and told her I was so glad to have her back and asked for her forgiveness. She hugged me and kissed me on the forehead like she always used to do and told me that of course she forgave me. She understood and there was no reason for me to be upset. And so I woke up, sobbing, and forgave myself. I felt at peace with my decision.
I hadn't seen her in years but, I got a phone-call from my grandfather yesterday afternoon asking if we were planning on attending the annual tree-lighting ceremony at the nursing home. "They have cookies, and Christmas music, and Santa....", he went on, but I quickly came up with more than three excuses. I was going to offer to have my mother bring the kids, which she has done a couple of times, but then remembered my mother is away on business. I shook it off, and told my Papa that I just couldn't go. But what I really meant was that I haven't been able to BRING myself to go. And then I heard it... a sad, defeated "Well...Okay" on the other end of the line. I had disappointed my grandfather and it was obvious. I quickly hung up the phone and shed a few tears then dialed my husband for consoling. He has been urging me to go visit my grandmother for the past year at least, but he is probably one of the only people that understands how deeply it affects me. I told him I just got off the phone with my grandfather, and the reason for his phone call, and asked him what he thought... though I already knew what I was going to do. Because Christmas is a couple of weeks away, because Christmas is my grandmother's birthday, because her name is Carol, and because it was just time... we packed up and took our daughter to the nursing home for the tree-lighting ceremony on a Tuesday night. And my grandmother didn't open her eyes once. But we met up with some of the family, including my grandfather, and I'm just glad that my grandfather had, and has us there with him. It was everything I thought it was going to be and worse, but it was time to visit regardless. My daughter had fun seeing Santa and having the Christmas carrolers sing to her, but all I saw was this:
People in wheelchairs, staring out the window at the rest of the world going on around them...
My great-aunt Barbara (my grandmother's sister), holding on...
And my confused daughter trying to wake my grandmother, to no avail...
These photos are to show how devastating Alzheimer's is, how deeply it affects me and I how I view it. This is why I don't go. I'm scared silly at the very real possibility that I could get this someday. I could BE this someday. That woman in that chair could be me in 30-40 years. I'm petrified of not knowing my children, or my grandchildren. Not having control of my body, my brain. Being stuck in limbo for years and years and not having the ability to escape it. I cry at the thought of my devoted husband leaning over my bedside daily, and force-feeing me pudding. I don't want that and I don't want the people I love to have to go through that. All this being said.... I'm okay. Presently healthy, and I have come to terms with not visiting. Last night was for everyone else. For my Papa, for my daughter, for my mother, for the sake of Christmas and for my grandmother. To show that even though Alzheimer's sucks, it doesn't take away love, the support of an amazing family, and our memories of the way it used to be.
This is how I choose to remember her... my sister and I at one of our dance recitals with my grandparents...
My grandmother with my son when he was little...
At my high school graduation...
And my Nana and Papa. Their love is incredible, to this day. My grandfather's undying love, faith, and devotion is inspiring and I love them both to the moon and back.
I love you, Nana. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas. <3
