Grandmothers

Both my grandmother and great-grand mother live in Illinois, in an elderly care home. My grandmother is in the stages of Alzheimer's and lives many days in the past. I call her to talk, she never remembers, but still chats away to me about what she did that day- well- what she did that day- in her mind. In our last call- she told me of her boys (her 6 sons- now grown of course) She told me how they piled into their van and headed to the park and went to church. She may not know what's happening all the time in her day- but I am comforted knowing that she lives somewhere happy. She does not remember that she is married- but tells me always that she has a nice man friend who visits her. She says he makes her laugh all day. He still believes that she will get better and come home. Thank you sir- you are a good man.

Sometimes, she'll talk to me about me. Once she described going to my childhood dance recital... She said, "Oh I just loved to watch Melanie dance- she danced like an angel." I don't really think she actually ever made it to those recitals... not at least that I remember. But I don't care- I guess she just loved whatever I did- which is the magic of Grandmothers.

Her mother is there too, Bertha (I was almost named after her). She just celebrated her 97th birthday. I talk with her too- she is sharp as a tack. Even though her husband passed away a few years ago- her passion for life did not waiver much- she learned to play the harmonica. She plays hymns at the church near her home, and for her friends and family.

She says to me, "If the good Lord hasn't taken me yet, then there's a good reason I'm still here. And I'll just keep on going, playing my harmonica, going to church, and I play cards too, you know, but most of the people here can't keep up."

There's a unique tie between grandmothers and granddaughters. I don't exactly know how to describe it- an un-bothered love, an intuition that I am strong because women before me were strong, a comfort that if she can do it- so can I. Life is precious, short, and meaningful. Don't sweat the small stuff.