family matters
An e-mail from my mother:
I left Friday night for Connecticut and just got back last night. We moved Grandma into the Alzheimer's home, and she's doing really well. Didn't want to go, but by the next day had forgotten, of course, and was totally enjoying it. Talking to the other women (who knows what kind of conversations they have) and smiling and looking quite comfortable. It's a huge relief. Robin [her sister] and I spent two days cleaning out the house of all kinds of crap they'd collected. Filled five trash bags and barely made a dent, but things are looking much better. Grandpa's doing okay, though now that we've left I imagine he'll be a bit lonely. But he'll pull himself together.
Well. So that's that, then. This has been a long time in coming. We found out that my grandmother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's almost five years ago, on Passover. I remember my cousin and I locked ourselves in a bathroom for half an hour, crying together. No one ever actually told Grandma her diagnosis; I don't know if she ever figured it out, or if her mind started going before she realized what was happening. My grandfather did a good job caring for her as her condition slowly deteriorated, but he's got health problems of his own, and I guess the strain just got to be too much. Almost sixty years of marriage, and it ends like this. I wonder how long she'll remember his name. I know she doesn't really remember mine, although she fakes it well. The worst part is, physically, she's in fantastic health for a woman her age. I wouldn't be surprised if she outlived her children. It's just her mind that's almost gone. What sort of a life is that? I'm relieved that this last transition for her went smoothly, but it still hurts like hell.
There are so many stories she'll never be able to tell me.
So here's a big "fuck you" to every redneck bastard who opposes stem cell research, research that could help cure or at least ameliorate this disease, because this is my grandmother, and no one should have to go through this.
I left Friday night for Connecticut and just got back last night. We moved Grandma into the Alzheimer's home, and she's doing really well. Didn't want to go, but by the next day had forgotten, of course, and was totally enjoying it. Talking to the other women (who knows what kind of conversations they have) and smiling and looking quite comfortable. It's a huge relief. Robin [her sister] and I spent two days cleaning out the house of all kinds of crap they'd collected. Filled five trash bags and barely made a dent, but things are looking much better. Grandpa's doing okay, though now that we've left I imagine he'll be a bit lonely. But he'll pull himself together.
Well. So that's that, then. This has been a long time in coming. We found out that my grandmother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's almost five years ago, on Passover. I remember my cousin and I locked ourselves in a bathroom for half an hour, crying together. No one ever actually told Grandma her diagnosis; I don't know if she ever figured it out, or if her mind started going before she realized what was happening. My grandfather did a good job caring for her as her condition slowly deteriorated, but he's got health problems of his own, and I guess the strain just got to be too much. Almost sixty years of marriage, and it ends like this. I wonder how long she'll remember his name. I know she doesn't really remember mine, although she fakes it well. The worst part is, physically, she's in fantastic health for a woman her age. I wouldn't be surprised if she outlived her children. It's just her mind that's almost gone. What sort of a life is that? I'm relieved that this last transition for her went smoothly, but it still hurts like hell.
There are so many stories she'll never be able to tell me.
So here's a big "fuck you" to every redneck bastard who opposes stem cell research, research that could help cure or at least ameliorate this disease, because this is my grandmother, and no one should have to go through this.