On my mind

Grandma is on my mind. Part of it is G's fault, she wants to put together family recipes and such. But, she's on my mind because I stopped by on Friday to see her before the football game.

This was the first time that it was obvious that she didn't know who I was. She didn't even attempt to guess who I was, and even after I told her who I was, there was no real recognition. There have been times when I thought she might not be sure who I was, but she faked it pretty well, and eventually figured it out. But, not this time.I even said I was "Shelly Jo" not just Shelly, cause...well, that's what everybody called me when I was little, so I thought that old name might register. But it didn't.

And, cousins, she looks awful. Frankly, she looks like hell. Her body is breaking down and...well, we might be together again before we all really want to. Which might be an early prediction on my part, but...I've been wrong before.

I figured, when I moved down here, that she'd last 6 months. It's been almost a year, and she's still here. I also figured Grandpa would still be here, but he's not. And, I've been thinking how hard this would be on him, watching her like this. He was her link to reality, but she was the person he was supposed to take care of. I know how upset he was when she didn't recognize him when he was in the hospital in April, and seeing her like this now would really upset him. Maybe that's why he went first, to be spared this. I just don't know.

So, she didn't know me. And, I coped well. Yes, it really bothered me, but it bothers me more that she's just not with it at all. She's not walking at all anymore. She's not eating much either. Her hands are claw like and remind me of those skeletal hands we all see at Halloween. But, she did hold my hand. She actually reached out for my hand. This, a woman, who didn't necessarily like to hug, touch, or kiss anyone. So, I held her hand, talked to her some. I tried to get her to tell me what she liked to cook, and what her favorite things to eat were. I got nowhere. She's good at not telling me anything. And, I don't even think she cared when I left. That's the worst part--the apathy. Yeah, it's the drugs, and I do not like drugs and I definitely do not like how they make her react. She should be able to know us--her family members. She should show some life, some animation and not sit like a zombie. That's what bothers me most. This woman isn't my grandma, difficult as she is, this isn't her. This is a shell. And, it's rapidly emptying.

So, over the next few days/weeks/months, if I vent here, please try to be patient and try to understand.