My 93-year-old grandmother has severe Alzheimer’s. It's heartbreaking. She doesn't remember her family. She can’t communicate. If she does try to speak, she just babbles nonsense. It’s difficult to visit someone who doesn't recognize you – or even respond to you. But last week, Madison and I went to see her at the nursing home – and I’m so glad we did.
We walked through the front doors and spotted Grandma hunched in a wheelchair near the nurse’s station. She sat with her elbow propped on the chair, holding her head with her hand. Every time I see her she looks less like my grandmother. I took a deep breath.
“Hi Grandma, do you remember me?”
She stared into space.
“I’m Sheri … Delores’s daughter.”
I felt awkward, but kept talking anyway. If nothing else, it helped me block out the guy down the hall who kept yelling.
“This is Madison, my daughter. She’s playing softball this summer and she does gymnastics. She likes to do flips.”
Grandma’s eyes looked vacant. I squatted down next to her. She was more interested in the camera hanging on my neck than she was in me.
We walked through the front doors and spotted Grandma hunched in a wheelchair near the nurse’s station. She sat with her elbow propped on the chair, holding her head with her hand. Every time I see her she looks less like my grandmother. I took a deep breath.
“Hi Grandma, do you remember me?”
She stared into space.
“I’m Sheri … Delores’s daughter.”
I felt awkward, but kept talking anyway. If nothing else, it helped me block out the guy down the hall who kept yelling.
“This is Madison, my daughter. She’s playing softball this summer and she does gymnastics. She likes to do flips.”
Grandma’s eyes looked vacant. I squatted down next to her. She was more interested in the camera hanging on my neck than she was in me.
I thought back to better days for Grandma, before this mind-erasing disease stole her memories and her words. Grandma was always there during special moments of my life. She may not remember them, but I do.
She was there on my wedding day.
She was there every time I brought home a new baby. She always brought a gift - a soft and cuddly baby doll. (She gave all three of my girls their first baby dolls.) And she sure loved holding her great-granddaughters.
I couldn't remember the last time I’d had a picture with Grandma. I gave Madison the camera. “Will you take a couple pictures?”
I kneeled down. "Can we get your picture, Grandma?" She looked at me.
No. I mean, she really looked at me.
I couldn't remember the last time I’d had a picture with Grandma. I gave Madison the camera. “Will you take a couple pictures?”
I kneeled down. "Can we get your picture, Grandma?" She looked at me.
No. I mean, she really looked at me.
Then she reached out with her shaky hand and gently touched my cheek. She stroked my hair and looked into my eyes. Then she tried to speak. Her words made no sense, but she said them with conviction, as if they made perfect sense to her.
At that moment, Madison snapped this picture ...
At that moment, Madison snapped this picture ...
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well I believe it. This photo represents another special moment with my grandma. And to me, it's worth a thousand (unspoken) words.
If you enjoyed reading this, you might also like to read the tribute I wrote about my grandparents and their 72 years of marriage. Click here to read my blog post: "A Model for My Marriage."
