Dear Reader,
I’ve learned a few things about my family and life these last few weeks. My only remaining grandfather gave us a scare recently, which actually had the side benefit of forcing 30+ year old wounds to be addressed. During the tears, my grandfather recovered to the extent he wanted to get up in his chair, watch TV, and eat pie. The diabetic man loves pie. Pumpkin pie made with Splenda tastes good.
My grandparents recently had their 60th wedding anniversary. That was the goal given to him by my aunt, their caretaker. She once told my grandfather that he couldn’t die until the house was paid off, and he replied that he didn’t want to live that long. (My grandparents have been almost completely dependent for the last few years.) Their 60th anniversary which had seemed like a long ways off at the time was the agreed upon goal. Even my grandmother agreed in her end stages of Alzheimer’s and dementia during one of her extremely rare moments of lucidity.
The day after my grandfather made his recovery, he had a relapse and at the same time my grandmother slipped into the final stage of Alzheimer’s. Nearly the moment she slipped into the final stage, my grandfather asked us to check on her. We had left the room less than five minutes earlier, but checked anyways. He was so concerned we all knew something was wrong. She was nonresponsive. My grandfather has barely eaten since, and with both I think it is only a matter of time. This is hard, but you have to respect the man and the love he has for his wife.
Live well,
Carolyn
