Getting Old
“Amy! Amy! AAAAAMMMMMMMMYYYYYY!” This is what I am waking up to again. I hear my mother hurrying down the hall into my great grandmother’s bedroom. I sigh and close my eyes, hopeful for a few more minutes of much needed teenage sleep. “Amy!” she hollers again, even louder, already forgetting my mother is in the bedroom with her. My mother’s name is Rita. No one in my family is named Amy, but that doesn’t stop my grandma from calling everyone Amy. Grandma has been living with us since I was 12 years old. She has dementia and neuralgia in the nerves behind her eyes. She is blind and in constant pain. Her eyes drip tears all the time and sometimes she cries because the pain is so bad. The dementia has been a blessing …show more content…
My sister and I help shower her and get her dressed. I can change her diaper and have stopped being squeamish about her body functions. I pluck whiskers from her chin and paint her nails pretty colors. We take turns missing church on Sundays to sit with her. Those times are special since it is just you and Grandma and every once in a while, something precious comes through and you glimpse the woman she once …show more content…
She sleeps in her bed all the day and my mom rotates her dutifully so she doesn’t get bedsores or rashes. We watch her hour after hour, thinking the end is near, but her breathing steadies and a priesthood blessing lets us know that she still has work to do on this earth.
My wedding day approaches and grandma still lives there in her bed, never really aware of her surroundings. I am preoccupied with my wedding plans but Grandma is never far from my thoughts. I know that no one wants to leave home for very long and my wedding means an overnight trip up to Portland for my family. A trusted friend and nurse is set to spend the night with her. She lives through the wedding and while I am on my honeymoon I call my mom every day to check on Grandma. She has become a piece of my heart and I worry I won’t make it home to be there when she
“Amy! Amy! AAAAAMMMMMMMMYYYYYY!” This is what I am waking up to again. I hear my mother hurrying down the hall into my great grandmother’s bedroom. I sigh and close my eyes, hopeful for a few more minutes of much needed teenage sleep. “Amy!” she hollers again, even louder, already forgetting my mother is in the bedroom with her. My mother’s name is Rita. No one in my family is named Amy, but that doesn’t stop my grandma from calling everyone Amy. Grandma has been living with us since I was 12 years old. She has dementia and neuralgia in the nerves behind her eyes. She is blind and in constant pain. Her eyes drip tears all the time and sometimes she cries because the pain is so bad. The dementia has been a blessing …show more content…
My sister and I help shower her and get her dressed. I can change her diaper and have stopped being squeamish about her body functions. I pluck whiskers from her chin and paint her nails pretty colors. We take turns missing church on Sundays to sit with her. Those times are special since it is just you and Grandma and every once in a while, something precious comes through and you glimpse the woman she once …show more content…
She sleeps in her bed all the day and my mom rotates her dutifully so she doesn’t get bedsores or rashes. We watch her hour after hour, thinking the end is near, but her breathing steadies and a priesthood blessing lets us know that she still has work to do on this earth.
My wedding day approaches and grandma still lives there in her bed, never really aware of her surroundings. I am preoccupied with my wedding plans but Grandma is never far from my thoughts. I know that no one wants to leave home for very long and my wedding means an overnight trip up to Portland for my family. A trusted friend and nurse is set to spend the night with her. She lives through the wedding and while I am on my honeymoon I call my mom every day to check on Grandma. She has become a piece of my heart and I worry I won’t make it home to be there when she