I was born in 1950. My mom was just a kid. They could have had me aborted or put me up for adoption, but they – probably my Gram – decided to keep me. (Mom married when I was two and covered her tracks. The family secret held for a very long time. )
Ultimately Gram was the only unconditional love I’ve ever had in this world.
She would have loved the colors on this blog. In our last days together I found the only way we could really connect was through pretty pictures. I used to take decorating magazines to the Dementia Ward on Sundays and we would look at the pictures together. “You had zinnias in your garden.” “These blues were your favorites in your living room.”
Her brain was pretty much gone, but she was still visual. She still appreciated colors and could create lovely paintings.
I last saw her five years ago. I was moving to Florida because Michigan winters and Lyme Disease do not mix. The Lyme was – is – a scary thing because relapses sometimes come with a fearsome fog. I was sick for two years before I backtracked and remembered “the bug” I clawed from my leg. I spent some of that time thinking I was getting Alzheimer’s. I could not focus. I could barely drive.
Fortunately, IV antibiotics cleared the fog; but the weather was hell on my physical health. I had to head south.
I expected I would see Gram when I came back for visits because nothing ever killed the Energizer Bunny. She was a vain woman who kept herself physically fit. As a result, her body outlasted her mind by many years.
But she died within two weeks of my leaving. My cousin called. She had one last evening where she was fully lucid and could remember everyone’s names and tell them she loved them. What was that??? I was broke, sad and lonely 1,500 miles south of I love you and good-bye.
I had joked that when she passed, she would be the first to visit me in my new place. And she did. But those are stories for another kind of blog.
I love my Gram and my Gram loves me.
Love never dies.
Allzheimers.us 