It hurts that I'm unable to say goodbye. It breaks my heart that my grandfather is here in body, but is no longer the person he used to be. Alzheimer's does that to a person. What hurts the most is that I know he would absolutely hate what has happened to him. There is nothing anyone can do but what is already being done, but it's painful nonetheless.
But instead of focusing on the part that makes us cry sad tears, I'd rather focus on that which makes us cry happy ones. As a child these are the memories I recall the most:
Age 5:
My Pop Pop is the smartest man ever. He knows math and science and every answer to every question I can come up with. He must be friends with God, because he knows EVERYTHING. Someday I'm gonna be just as smart as him.
Age 11:
Pop Pop is teaching me to play checkers. Today I got just as good as him, because he taught me what he called the most important lesson ever ... if you get to where you know you're going to lose (and in this case HE was going to lose!), accidently knock the board over!! Heee hee. Pop Pop makes me laugh.
Age 17:
Pop Pop always treats me as an equal. At the point where I feel like everyone is treating me like a kid, he talks to me as an adult would, he asks my opinion, wants to hear my reasons and my thoughts. Even when I'm wrong about something, he takes the time to listen, appreciate, and then explain why that might not be the correct response. I respect him more than I could ever explain.
Age 25:
Every holiday the whole family gets together. It's a tradition I absolutely love. But I especially look forward to the time I get to spend with Pop Pop, talking about everything from Virginia Tech football, to why my latest boyfriend didn't deserve me in the first place. How often I wish I had his absolute wisdom when it comes to life.
Age 30:
I love the way Pop Pop's face lights up when he sees my son. His first great grandson is a constant source of enjoyment for him, and I only wish I could get the two of them together more often. I see so much of myself and my husband in my son, but Pop Pop is there too, in his quick perception, his amazing absorbtion and retention of everything he sees. In short, his very intelligence and that quick smile that goes with it gives me flashes of Pop Pop every day.
Age 32:
I hate what has happened to my Pop Pop. And yes, he is my grandpa, but his name will always be "Pop Pop" to me. And instead of remembering this horrible disease that is stealing him slowly and painfully from us, to me he will always be that quick smile, that quicker wit, that handsome gentleman with that eternally comforting embrace.
I love you Pop Pop. I always will.
4 comments:
Oh Jenn! First let me say that I'm sorry to hear about your Pop Pop. Second, I KNOW what you are going through. My grandfather suffered with the same disease and I watched him on a daily basis slowly fade away from everyone and everything he ever knew and loved. It is so hard to watch and experience, but you are right by not thinking about the bad parts and focusing on the good things. Everytime I think about mine, I think about eating watermelon in the summertime. I think about how he use to drive in circles, we never came back home the same way we left it. LOL Those thoughts and memories will help you through this and will carry you on even when he's no longer with you. I'm thinking about and praying for you and your family. I'm here if you need to talk!
I'm so sorry... ((Hugs))
I am so sorry to hear about your Pop Pop. ((hugs))
I am so sorry you're going through this. I'm right there with you. My grandfather has Alzheimer's. It sort of feels more appropriate to say Alzheimer's has him. It has been difficult and painful to watch him slip away. And just like your Pop Pop, my grandfather would hate what has happened to him, too. This is the exact thing he did not want. My heart aches with yours. But I think you have the right idea - focus on the happy memories. Thankfully, I have plenty and it seems you do, too.
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