Tuesday, November 27, 2007

God's gift to me in the midst of Alzheimer's: One last glimpse of her


My last living grandparent, Frances Tabor, died on New Year's Day of 2007. It's hard to believe she died just this year, though; she had been gone from herself since at least the year 2000.

She was my father's mother, born the youngest of seven children in Butler, Georgia. She was a southern lady in every was imaginable... from her cooking to her southern manners... We lived about an hour apart for most of my life; so I spent a lot of time at her house.

My brother Ben and I spent many weeks during the summer at our grandparents' house. I can't remember exactly how we spent the time, except that while we were there; my grandparents REALLY paid attention to us. When I was really little, my grandmother used to play on the floor with me and all of my stuffed animals. We used to play around her coffee table and used the legs as a part of their pretend house, and she knew all of my stuffed animals' names. Later, she entertained me by answering my endless questions about the past; as well as telling me stories from her childhood. When I was a teenager, she became my shopping buddy, and we spent endless hours walking the malls. When I went to college in Athens, my grandparents helped me immensely by sending me money and visiting often; they also gave me rides when I wanted to visit home. As a young adult, my first "real" job was near Chattanooga. I was young and in a town where I knew no one; and since I worked with mental patients, work did not exactly open doors to friends my age! In my loneliness, my grandparents phoned and visited me often.

After getting married and having a baby, my grandmother and I hit the malls once again with renewed interest; now we were searching for baby boy outfits! Things should have been wonderful and perfect... but something changed within her. It was so gradual that I didn't notice it at first; but looking back, it is all very clear now.

Alzheimer's for Grandmama began with an inability to drop it when someone slighted her. We all do it... you know, someone says something rude and you think about what you wish you'd said for the next day or so... a complete waste of time, but very human. Well, she began holding onto grievances against people the way a dog chews on a bone... she just couldn't let it go. We didn't recognize this as dementia; rather, we thought she was just getting a bit cantankerous. It surfaced with everyone to some extent; and then once day exploded on me. She wanted to allow Matthew to do a number of things I didn't agree with. In hindsight, I would have done things SO DIFFERENTLY if I had any idea she was sick. However, I didn't know and just told her like I would have told anyone... that I was the mother and I would be making the decisions.

Note: Really pray about it before you take this approach with someone who is old enough to develop Alzheimer's and has developed a recent tendency to hold grudges to an extreme.

Grandmama shocked me by telling me she never wanted anything to do with me again. I still didn't know she was sick, so I had no idea where this was coming from. I tried and tried to apologize... letters and even a video tape just made it worse. She was done with me and I just couldn't believe it.

The worst part was that she had not lost any of her memory yet. This was a double-edged sword: painful in part because I couldn't blame her hatred on the disease, and also painful because she said true things to me about my character that made her dislike of me all the more believable.

Our separation lasted 9 long months. After nine months passed, I had really given up. I had accepted being disowned. Then, out of the blue, Grandmama called. I answered the phone and heard that familiar, "Sammy?" I couldn't believe she'd called. I will never forget how broken she sounded. Her voice was weak as if she'd been crying, and she said she didn't know how things had ever gotten so far. We both apologized and she said she wanted us to be a family again. I wanted it to happen, but it really never did.

In The Velveteen Rabbit, the rabbit becomes real after being loved on for so many years. Many of the older women in my life, like some of the ones in my Bible study group, seem to get more real with age. I love watching their girlish expressions when they say something naughty... the creases on their faces are so beautiful in the way they make expressions. They seem so alive!

Once Grandmama became sick, she was no longer like the beautiful older women in my Bible study. She didn't become more animated with age after becoming sick. She couldn't joke or even connect with me anymore. It was as if her body was a shell and still contained the memory of her... but no longer actually contained her. Unlike the Velveteen Rabbit, she didn't seem real anymore.

Over time, Alzheimer's made her aggressive with everyone except (ironically) me. I had learned my lesson, and was very careful with my tone. This seemed to be the key, because she never turned on me again. However, she was unpredictable and at times physically violent. I didn't feel confident about taking the kids to see her... I took them some, but fear kept me from going as often as I should have gone.

Eventually, she could no longer make new memories. I ended up guessing when her illness began based on the memories she retained. She always remembered Matthew, but in the end forgot Nathan. He was born in 2000. After she died in 2007, I realized while going through her home and belongings that her illness began much sooner than even 2000. We found unpaid bills, among other things, hidden away in envelopes all over her house. The earliest date for these strangely filed or hidden items was a decade before her death.
Just how long does Alzheimer's last? When do you get it? Do I have it now? Does Charles? Is there something I'm eating, or cooking with, or breathing that I should avoid?
No one knows.

On Christmas of 2006, I took my older boys to visit her. She was in terrible shape mentally... By this point, most of her conversations were a series of loops... a string of phrases she would utter in order again and again. Real conversation was impossible because she couldn't remember from one second to the next what had been said. Still, I tried that day. I began talking about the things we used to do together. Suddenly, the blank look in her eyes was filled with recognition, and she said"Those were the best days of my life." I looked at her with shock. She was there! I could see the real Grandmama behind her eyes. I told her, " You were a really good grandmother. " We both cried as I am crying now. It was the last time I saw her alive.

I thank God for that moment when she was real again. I'm so glad it ended that way; a real moment between us. The last 7 years had been so hard. Thank you, Jesus, for letting those be our last word to each other here on earth!

No comments: