My grandmother is still hanging on and as healthy as can be expected, but every time I see her, she knows me less. Last June, when I took Jeff to meet her, she knew my face but not who I was. In August, at Allison's wedding, I don't know if she would have known me, because I barely saw her. Yesterday Mom and I went to see her, and Mom introduced me as my daughter, Laura,
and Grandmama said, I don't think I've ever seen her before.
But I don't think I have a right to complain, because she doesn't even recognize her daughter Frances. And although she always introduces my mother as my daughter Carolyn,
once she asked my mother, Did you know my husband?
So I think she remembers the word daughter
or maybe just the phrase my daughter Carolyn,
but she doesn't know what it means any more.
It's sad and hard, and the hardest thing is its terrible relentless slowness, so that I wonder how many baby steps she can take without falling headlong into the abyss.
I remember, last Christmas, Grandmama smiled once, and I was shocked to realize how long it had been since she had smiled. I believe that she is not unhappy, but she has no joy. On the other hand, perhaps she does not miss it so much. She can no longer comprehend her loss of understanding.
P.S. Mom now thinks that Grandmama has Alzheimer's. We didn't think that for a long time, because it came on so gradually. It's hard to tell where normal forgetfulness ended and dementia began, but I see Grandmama in every one of the Ten Warning Signs of Alzheimer's. I just wish we'd figured it out earlier, when there was possibly a chance of doing something about it.
Post a comment