Grandma - Crossing the Finish Line

(I don't think this was her last Christmas, but it was one of her last)

"Alzheimer's is a terrible disease for such a wonderful woman." That's how my oldest brother Matt began his remarks at Grandma's funeral in January 2009. My grandpa had switched to Heritage nursing home before his death in January 1999. Grandma eventually followed -- first, selling their home (so, so sad to say goodbye to that house of memories!); then, at an assisted living facility on the other side of town; finally, at the same nursing home where we said goodbye to Grandpa. 

I grew up going to nursing homes to visit grandparents and to sing carols at Christmas, so I wasn't bothered by them. As we got older, my brothers and I would even bring our instruments to sing familiar hymns in the dining room. There was power in the familiarity of the music. Long after Grandma had forgotten many things, she could still sing along with the hymns from her past.  It was one of our last remaining points of connection.  

I'm not sure when she was actually diagnosed with Alzheimer's, but by the end of 2008, the disease had robbed her of all the things I had known and loved about my grandma. She even looked different. When I visited her at the nursing home that Christmas, I realized that though she was still alive, I had already said goodbye to who she once was. She passed away not long after in January. 

I'm grateful that her story doesn't end there.  The legacy of how she created community, cultivated "home," and cooked amazing meals lives on in our hearts. And, most importantly, because of how she trusted in Jesus for salvation and centered her life on Christ, she is now healed and whole in heaven with a new body and a new mind "in a land where we'll never grow old."

(three poems, written on 12-26-08)

I visited my grandma today

Or what's left of her

No, she's not dead

but she might as well be.

Is that horrible of me?

   to wish my grandma was dead?

Sounds horrible...

   but not if you know the situation.

The truth is,

   she's not living anymore

She's a shell of what once was.

Even now

   I'm struggling to find closure

   to say good to my grandma

      who is already gone.

--

My only grandma left

    is slowly fading

It gets worse

    each time we visit

First, not recognizing me

Now, not even talking

First, a twinkle in her eye

Now, a blank stare

First, a faint recollection of familiar hymns

Now, not a recollection of anything

It was sad

    and it's getting sadder

        each time

            I see her.

--

The nurses at Heritage nursing home

    haven't a clue

    of what my grandma was like

She was kind

She was patient

She worked hard

She loved much

She opened her home

She opened her heart

She cooked for us

She dined with us

She held the family together

She held me in her arms

She made my bed

She made my day

She prayed for me

She taught me how to pray

She took care of her ailing husband

She took care of me when I was sick

She read to me

She played with me

She sang

She giggled

All these things she did

    are but a memory    

        and the nurses haven't a clue

 --

(written on 1-22-09)

I wrote a poem about Grandma

    the last time I saw her

Who knew that that last time 

    would be

        the last time I saw her

I kind of expected it.

I should have guessed.

The reality, the finality of it all,

    rocked me more than

        I would have guessed.

This was one of our Christmas Eve gatherings. After Grandma moved out of her house, we celebrated Christmas at various houses over the years. I'm guessing it was around the early 2000s when I was in college. Grandma was still able to join us that year.

Playing and singing at the nursing home