My mom has always had a sweet little relationship with L. Even though she is the 23rd grandchild, she has a special place in Grandma's heart. Retired, without much to do, my mom happily babysat my kids while I worked. The adoration of "Grandma Days" were mutual from the kids and Mom alike. Very early on, it occurred to me that Grandma gave L something that I simply could not -- undivided attention. One day when L was about nine months old, I was dropping her off to my mom on my way to work and as I walked out the door, I heard my mom ask L, "what do you want to do today?" I had never asked the baby such a question. In our world, L's entire schedule was blocked around what I needed or wanted to get done -- laundry, grocery shopping, work. Yet, in my mom's world, all of those things could wait. Grandma would do things I would not -- like read the same book over and over twenty times consecutively. I am not even exaggerating. Not surprisingly, by the time the kids were old enough to talk, they both frequently asked for Grandma when they were in trouble. She was much, much nicer than their mother.
When L was about three or four, she pulled out my old Cabbage Patch dolls to play with. She got the dolls ready for their morning, fed them breakfast and then brought them to me. When I inquired why the dolls were near my feet at the computer, she replied that she was heading to work and the dolls were there for a Grandma Day. Her world was simplistic and she never understood that there was any other way. Having Grandma Days made being a working mom so much easier, and is one of the things I miss the most.
We put L in kindergarten in a school by my parents so I could be close to L while helping with them. On warm days, we try to leave our house early enough to walk from my parents' house to the school. My mom usually goes with us, and it has been good for her to get out and get some exercise. Mom's pace is painfully slow. Each day though, little L takes Grandma's hand and helps her walk to the school as I push the boys in the stroller. They are usually half a block behind me, with L carrying on a lively conversation, even when Grandma doesn't participate. I want to never forget the sweet image of little L, with her big red backpack, holding Grandma's hand, chatting with her as they walk to school.
Sadly, I think the days of Mom walking to school with us are over. Her condition is rapidly deteriorating. The stories are more upsetting to her and she has days where she will barely speak to us. She isn't able to dress herself alone and is struggling to use the bathroom without assistance. She is convinced that all of her food is spoiled or contaminated and will rarely eat. I saw her at about her worst, thus far, last Tuesday. I had dropped N off at preschool and ran to my parents to pick up my mom and bring her back to my house for the morning. In my attempt to merge my world of aging parents and young children, I concluded that bringing her to my house would allow me to get my daily tasks done and still spend time with her.
We walked into her house to find her in full panic mode. She was hyperventilating and told me something was very wrong. She couldn't articulate what it was, but just something was wrong. After several minutes of trying to converse, I decided to proceed to my house and see if distraction would help the situation. I told her to go to the bathroom and then we would leave. She stood up, said she was light-headed, and grabbed the wall while clutching her chest. I was ready to take her to the ER. Dad was unaffected. Mom finally made it to the bathroom and I went in to ask Dad, who was quietly eating his oatmeal, if we should seek medical attention. His only response, "She's been doing that lately." I can only imagine how draining and heartbreaking it must be for him.
I was unsure if I wanted to take her with me, but knew she needed a distraction and Dad needed a break. I loaded her, L, and Baby A in the car. I tried to carry on a conversation while we drove. Mostly I just talked to her. I do that a lot these days. I pulled in the driveway and waited for the garage door to open. She begged me not to park in the garage, with tears in her eyes she told me I couldn't park there. So, we parked in the driveway and went in the house. The hyperventilating continued. I put Baby A down for a nap and wondered if I would be able to get a shower that morning. Then I wondered if my students would be able to notice if I came to class without showering. The idea of leaving her unattended, even just for a few minutes, in this condition with my five-year-old seemed highly irresponsible. Trying to distract her from whatever was bothering her, I told L to read to her. As a kindergartner, L loves reading and showing off her newly acquired skill. She cuddled up to Grandma and started to read. As I cleaned the kitchen and did the dishes, I was shocked by the comfort level of little L. I was uncomfortable around my mom in her current state. She was a little scary with the crazy stories and terrified looks. L didn't even seem to notice.
L read for quite a while. The hyperventilating slowed. Mom was starting to calm. Just when I thought a shower might be within my reach, L said she wanted to go play in her room. Just the day before, we had put L's new room together. It was new and exciting and she loved playing in it. I knew my mom would not go upstairs and would be lost as to where the bathroom was up there. I pulled L aside and told her Grandma was a little upset but seemed to be better when she was playing with her. I asked L if she would be willing to do something downstairs instead of playing in her room. Much to my amazement, she responded, "Grandma loves puzzles. We will do puzzles at the table." Sure enough, Mom loved the puzzles and L was so good to talk to her and help her with them. It was one of the sweetest things I have seen (and I actually did get that shower!).
A couple hours later, after picking N up from preschool and dropping Mom off at her house, I heard L recount the morning to N. She then instructed him on how to help calm Grandma down if she was having a bad day. Wanting to gauge her comprehension of the situation, I asked L why Grandma was upset. Her response -- She just has nightmares and thinks they are real and gets really upset, so we have to help her calm down again. Somehow, I think little L understands this all better than I do.
It breaks my heart that L will have very few memories of her Grandma. I want her to always remember that her Grandma loved her very much and was always willing to do anything to make her happy. She was a little light in Grandma's world and Grandma was so proud of her.
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