Foggy Days

Snorting is a sign of intelligence. At least that is what my Grandmother always said. Then again she always snorted when she laughed so she may have made that up...

I was thinking about her today and wishing that I could talk to her like we used to talk when I would drive up to the Falls for a visit. Talking to her now is just not the same. Sometimes I listen to my Mother at the other end of the phone explaining to my Grandma how to hold the phone and which end to talk into. But it's not like she knows me. I like to think that maybe there may be just a moment when she remembers but I think I do that more for myself than for anyone else.

I was trying to explain Alzheimer's to KC earlier. It's like a thief I said. A giant eraser. It makes everything about you disappear. It wipes you clean, so clean you cannot even recognize yourself or remember all the things that make up who you are.

I can't imagine how it must make my Mom feel to see her own Mother day in and day out. There are good days and bad days she tells me. And I know if it makes me feel so damn helpless here a couple hundred miles away, she has to feel it triple fold. Sometimes the person you want most to talk to is the person right beside you already light years away...

3 comments:

YM said...

Thank you for remembering your grandmother as she was and for remebering for her now that the weeds have overtaken her garden...and thank you for being the daughter who can put into words some of the things I cannot....and for writing so well that tears fall without reservation.

YM said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Stacey said...

What can I say? I miss her something fierce. I'd give the world just to hear that snort or have her try to smack me with her cane...

Remember what she told Kate...

"You can say anything you want about me when I'm gone... Just don't call me a bingo player."

 
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