We had barely buckled them all in, when from the backseat, Kylie piped up, “Grandma, I do not like that sweater you’re wearing.” I love the honesty of children. (Later, she said that she loves my purse. At least the girl, at only 5 years old, has figured out her taste in fashion. To my mom’s credit, it was a lovely fall sweater, but it had the unfortunate chance of being a burnt orange and Kylie doesn’t like dark colors. Hilarious regardless.) That started off our little jaunt over to visit my grandma on Sunday afternoon.
Love this one…I love seeing love in pictures.
Bunny ears.
In my family, my dad is known for his love of ice cream. There has always been ice cream in the house; it’s a staple. There was one time in my life, sometime during my junior year of high school, when all the ice cream had been eaten and, by sheer lack of communication, no more had been stocked. It was the one and only time I can remember that happening.
So it’s no wonder really that when I got to the nursing home today to visit Grandma, she was in the dining hall finishing her meal with, yes, ice cream! That’s my girl. Apparently, my dad inherited her love of ice cream, then passed it on to his 6 offspring. (I will add that the ice cream thing didn’t skip a generation as it hit his grandchildren as well.)
Grandma finished her ice cream and joined us in her room. She was shivering from cold while Hogan discarded his jacket from the heat. I pulled the blanket off her bed, much to her consternation as she thought she could “just handle it”, and wrapped her up in it. I think she’s beautiful.
The kids were along today (and my mom) so Grandma was content to listen to them. Afterwards, Mom and I discussed how much more comfortable is is to have children there because it’s so difficult to have a conversation with her–almost as if it’s easier for her to listen instead of engaging. Plus, she smiles more when she is watching and listening to them. They are funny kids after all!
Her memory is still the same, of course. She didn’t ask who I was, but she never acknowledged that she knew me either so it cancelled out to a zero. She couldn’t put names to the kids, but she recognized their faces. One moment, she talked about going to church this morning and then she asked the kids how school was today. They graciously looked at my mom to explain that it’s Sunday and they don’t have school on Sunday. They’re gracious kids, after all.
When my mom told Grandma that my aunt Marilyn and uncle Lyle were going to come take her to the evening church service, she got very excited and said, “Good! I have been waiting so long for someone to take me to Fairview again!” He face fell a little when Mom told her they were taking her to the service at the nursing home and not to my dad’s church, where she has been a lifelong attender. She seemed more settled when Mom mentioned that my dad’s church was in charge of the nursing home service though. I guess compromise is a lifelong challenge.
You know that song that goes, “I have a shelter in the storm when troubles pour upon me. Though fears are rising like a flood, my soul can rest securely. Oh, Jesus, I will hide in you, my place of peace and solace. No trial is deeper than your love that comforts all my sorrows.”
Well, in my complete honesty, I find myself falling into this song some days, especially after my Grandma-visits. I’ve only been to one funeral in my life where I sobbed and felt such a deep, wrenching, sincere loss; it was my mom’s best friend’s funeral. My entire body that day, from head to toe, was full of gut-twisting pain to the point it felt like I couldn’t swallow. And though I am enjoying my Grandmother’s presence with us now, sometimes I fall into the foreshadowing pain of growing older and the inevitable time–hopefully further away than sooner–when I will have to hug her one last time.
I’ll be honest; at this exact moment, I couldn’t bear to do it. Her little boney body against mine is like a security, like a fight against the hardships of the world. So when, even in these moments, I tear up because I just can’t bear the thought, I listen to the song and I revel in the knowledge that even while my fears are rising, my soul can rest securely.
Someday I will have to say goodbye, but for today, I can keep visiting and I can keep hugging and I can keep capturing her smile and loving that she’s my Grandma.
While I sat and penned my thoughts, Kevin played the Wii. It was strangely comforting being in the same room doing absolutely different things.
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