"You can turn painful situations around through laughter. If you can find humor in anything, even poverty, you can survive it.” ~Bill Cosby
There need be no diagnoses for what we already know exists. My grandmother's memory is getting worse. She spent the afternoon with my mother...knowing, the whole time, who she was. They talked and laughed for hours about old times. Then, out of no where, my grandmother referred to my mother as my oldest sister, Amy. My grandmother completely turned the conversation into one that she would have been having with my sister, about her childhood. Understandably, my mother was left with a confused expression upon her face (as much as you prep yourself for things like this to happen, it's still quite hard to hide emotions.). My grandmother didn't understand why my mother had made the face, and questioned her about it, asking, "Do you not know who I am, darling? I'm your grandmother. Call your mother and ask her if all the things that I'm telling you are true. When you were little you loved me more than you loved your mom. And you ate better for me, too!". My mom was silent, searching for a way to respond, when my step father (God bless him) piped in quite seriously, "Yeah, Amy, call your mom."
I couldn't help but to laugh at my step dad's comment.
Yes, my heart breaks into a million tiny pieces at each obvious sign of my grandmother's declining memory loss. However, it can't be stopped. Nothing will ever be the same again. If we can't laugh our way through it, it'll be a struggle to survive with our sanity intact.
My grandmother knows it's happening. She has really good days where she remembers quite a lot. There are parts of her mind that are still very much intact. Those bits know what's going on, and she is scared. She is scared of losing herself....scared of losing all of us by not knowing who we are. This is where my struggle comes from. It's as if she is being pushed very slowly, under water, and there's nothing we can do to save her. And, at the moment, she knows that it's happening.
Fortunately, we all have one another...and she has us. We have thousands of memories to share with her as she loses another one. In each memory, smiles and laughter that are infinite. Not to be broken by this disease.
(This was her 70 birthday, last year. We all wore pink, and surprised her with a party.)
Growing up, we always had Thanksgiving dinner at MawMaw and PawPaw's house. There was always a massive spread of food, tons of people, stories shared, games played, etc. She and I talked about that a few months ago. It's been a while since we've celebrated a holiday at their house. Last week, she made my grandfather call everyone up to invite all of us over for Thanksgiving at her house. :0) I can't wait.
Relishing in His goodness...
