Today I wore earrings to work. I have not really been able to wear my larger earrings since our child loves to pull on them. But today I wore a fun pair to work. They are a fabulous pair of black earrings with gold flakes and they were my grandmother's.
My grandmother really is an adventurous woman. She grew up in Kansas and always had dreams outside of the state. She became a nurse and caught the eye of a doctor she worked with. He asked her out, but because he was still in his residency and working long hours, he slept through their date! He had to buy her a few bouquets of flowers and beg for another chance. She gave in to his charm, and he became my grandfather. Their first child was born in Oregon, (my mother), then they moved to Minnesota. They grew their family and hosted exchange students, and they traveled as much as possible. I always loved visiting their house and seeing what souvenirs they brought back.
My grandmother was always full of love. She was a woman who went after what she wanted. She had a fulfilling career but was so happy being a stay at home mom and raising her hoard of children when the time came. She taught herself to play the piano. She loved to needlepoint. She always had a wonderful story to tell. She loved coffee ice cream. She had the best throaty laugh. She would always walk as many miles as she could. She had the loudest and most fun fashion.
She's still alive, but I haven't had a conversation with her in years. In fact it's easier for me to pretend she isn't here anymore. She has Alzheimer's. It is now at a later stage. I know people will say that the love is still there. I know people will say that deep down she's still there. I know people will say I need to visit her, but it's hard. Many of my memories now are of her with this disease. Our wedding weekend was when she had finally accepted her diagnosis, two Christmases later she forgot who I was, the next year she didn't remember coffee ice cream (something she ate everyday), the next year she had no idea who any of her children were, then after my grandfather passed she forgot him, she's forgotten how to walk, she can't play piano, and she's lost her joy. I hate that the love and beautiful memories I had of her vivaciousness have been replaced with her not knowing how to unwrap a present.
I've tried to visit, and after each one the grief is overwhelming. I miss her. I miss the woman who I told so many of my secrets to. She knew about Darren before anyone else. I miss the woman who would explore new construction houses with me just because. I miss the woman that patiently untangled all of the thread when teaching me to needlepoint. I miss the woman who always was ready to get ice cream. I miss the stories. I miss my grandma and she's still here.
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