To Bebe

I don't know why I feel led to write about this right now..... 2:47am isn't always when I have my deepest thoughts.... But anyway.

I suppose I've needed to put this into writing for years now, but maybe I thought I was delaying the inevitable if I did, or something.

My grandmother, known to me as GrandBebe, has Alzheimer's.

I would not wish this terrible disease on ANYONE, and yet I fear most people have watched a loved one slowly waste away because of it.

There is a strong possibility that this will also be my future, but I don't think about it too much, otherwise it distracts me from the wonderful life I'm currently living.
There are probably 1000 reasons I don't visit my grandmother as much as I should..... I guess everyone has a "special" grandparent, or at least a special relative, my older brother has my father's youngest brother (our uncle, for those who aren't paying attention) my younger brother had an incredibly special bond with our grandfather, GrandBebe's second husband ('step' grandfather who saw us as his own flesh and blood) and then after he passed, Moose and my father's older.... Younger.... Brother (he's got 2 brothers, both younger than him, and the older of the two, pay attention!!!!!!) became close, found mutual interests, and I think would get into lots of trouble if they lived closer.

All that to say, MY GrandBebe hung the moon. There is nothing she can't do. I've seen her walk into a kitchen with bare pantry shelves and whip up a full meal fit for a king. She's an artist, not only in several different mediums on paper, but also with the spoken word. The only reason she ever told me the same story twice is because I asked her to tell me about the time when......

Her eyes sparkle and dance, beautiful grass green eyes with little muddy brown footprints scampering across them, and oh what a story those eyes can tell!!!!!

She is a gardener, like her mother, and has the ability to see a corner of a leaf of a plant and tell you what it is, when to plant it, and what friend has one you can get clippings from.

And TROUBLE!!!!!! You know those pretty patches of wildflowers on the highway, the ones with the big signs saying NOT to pick them? GrandBebe held my hand, walked me over to them, and told me to pick out the prettiest ones, and if anyone said anything she'd play the confused little old lady.

She made sure, made SURE we had good memories with her. I don't know what she was cooking, to this day I think she was attempting to make caramel and it got away from her, but I remember how pretty it was when the sun caught it, and she put it on parchment in pretty little curls and called it Bess' Hair.
The few times I was at her house and sick, she melted chocolate, put my medicine inside, and covered it with powdered sugar so I'd actually enjoy taking it.
The only negative thing I EVER remember her saying about me was that if she wanted to lose something, she could just ask me to find it, because I was just never good at seeing things that were right in front of me (and we both have ADD and our "organization" skills are..... Different)

I remember the day we were driving down the road, and seemingly out of nowhere, she said "Bess, do you know that you and Mickey saved my life?" And I was floored..... I didn't know what she was talking about.... And then she told me that every time we got into a car, the first thing we did was buckle up, and then we told her to buckle up, too. And she did. And it became a habit. I thought that was pretty cool.

I remember the night that she told me about the pistol she used to keep under her pillow, and that she had plans on ending it all. And then one day the gun was gone. There's probably a lot more to that story, but it was the day I found out that my hero wasn't perfect. It was also right about the time I had first contemplated suicide, and I realized that if she had come that close, and hadn't done it, then I could keep going for a little while..... It also was a huge wake up call, she was probably in her 20s or 30s when that happened, and I could see all she would have missed if she had followed through. That was huge to me.

I remember her telling us that she was going to get knee surgery and then once she healed up she'd be playing soccer with us in the yard.

I remember her wearing purple suits and big red hats and just being the coolest red hat lady ever.

I didn't notice the small changes in the beginning, but I'm sure they were there. I remember her forgetting to call on a birthday, forgetting to return phone calls, little things like that, but she's a grandmother, those things just happen with age..... And I didn't visit enough, so when I did see her, it was drastic changes. And then came the day when she didn't recognize me. And I knew it would come. I knew it for years before. I tried to prepare myself.

And then I realized that she couldn't see me.

That's the terrible part of the disease. No, all of it is terrible. This is the part that rips my soul apart.

She just doesn't know me anymore.

Bebe was present at my birth, fixing water and turning the heat up too high. She was there for my kindergarten orientation. She took me to see the Nutcracker for the first time. I spent a week or more every summer with her. Almost every holiday. She was there.

And she doesn't know me.

She DOES, I know she does somehow know I'm hers, even if she claims my two boys before she claims me. I would too, they're adorable.

It will always be hard for me to spend time with her now, because I remember how it was, how she was, before this. It feels like a long drawn out death. Like every day takes a little bit more of her away. And I don't know what to do with the space with her name written all over it. Because when I see her, I want her to see me. And know me. But she does love me. That's one thing I don't think the disease can take from her, is her loyal, devoted, unconditional love for her family.

Dear GrandBebe,
Do you know how special you are to me? I try to tell you every time I talk to you. You have blessed me in so many ways, I'll never know the extent. You have taught me so much, even when you weren't teaching me anything. I'm a better person because I have you in my life. Thank you for loving me, helping me, teaching me, sitting with me, telling me stories, letting me help cook, reading to me, and lifting me up when I needed it. God only made me one GrandBebe, and He made you perfect, just for me.

I love you, and I miss you, and I'll see you soon.
Your granddaughter, Bess