Ever since the death of grandpa, grandma has been living quietly and simply on her own. It made sense to finally move grandma in with my daughter’s mom. All three generations under one roof makes it easy to care for po-po. Not living in isolation can also decelerate the gradual and unstoppable march of Alzheimer.
It was gradual. Forgetting keys, misplacing items and recalling details. It happens to all of us and if we are juggling many things, it’s easy to forget. But progressively, grandma’s symptoms include forgetting whether meals were eaten, mild confusion and the frequency of forgetfulness became telltale signs.
My daughter is old enough to remember fond memories of her times with her grandparents but it became unsettling when grandma kept asking her when she had come back (from after school). It doesn’t help that my daughter doesn’t live with her mother and so it’s entirely possible that grandma isn’t keeping track of visitation dates. But the symptoms are tough to hide.
“How’s grandma?” I asked my daughter on her return from visiting. “Does she recognize you?” I jokingly asked. But my daughter simply replied, Yeah, but I don’t recognize her. All sarcasm and joking fell aside and my inquiry melted in sympathy and helplessness. “I’m sorry.” It’s okay, dad.
It’s difficult to deal with the sudden loss of a loved one, but I think it’s even more devastating to see it in slow motion watching a person slip away.
We talked about various ways my daughter can rekindle old memories and enjoy the passage of time by watching comedies and other short skits as long movies with complex plotlines can become confusing. But unfortunately, grandma’s memories of my daughter are of when she was a young child. There are virtually very few memories of her current teenager years to reflect upon.
Unlike when my daughter’s grandpa died, who had his full mental faculty, grandma is transforming into a person my daughter barely recognizes. With living arrangements the way they are, I told my daughter that she can go and spend as much time as she can at her mom’s. But access isn’t her concern. It’s one of ambivalence.
Grandchildren often feel a mix of love and frustration that turns into fear, sadness. While my daughter doesn’t feel resentment as she always has the option to come home to our house, she does see the burden, hardship and weariness of her mother caring for her grandmother. This often leads to friction and conflict. Not only is this not beneficial for Alzheimer patients, but it’s also a situation my daughter entirely wants to avoid and so coming home is not only a respite, but preferred avoidance.
It’s difficult to deal with the sudden loss of a loved one, but I think it’s even more devastating to see it in slow motion watching a person slip away and knowing that there’s nothing that can be done. My daughter knows that grandma’s behavior is caused by a disease and not a change in affection. But from her perspective, it’s even more difficult to take. If grandma was upset at my daughter because of something she did, it can easily be discussed and addressed. But with the gradual robbing of grandma’s memories, there’s nothing she could do and so she feels even more powerless.
Even though a disease is affecting one individual, my daughter feels that its effects are felt by all in the family.
