Alzheimer's

Alzheimer’s is hard to watch. I was raised by my grandparents after my parents died. They did a great job. My grandpa was my baseball coach. My grandma picked me up from school. When the doctors determined that both had Alzheimer’s, I didn’t quite know what to expect. Now, the two people who were the parents in my life don’t even remember who I am.

Yesterday, I visited their elderly home, where they live in separate rooms. They don’t recognize each other. It hurts, because they taught me what love looks like. They taught me about sacrifice, humility, and loyalty. More than that, they showed it to me. I can still see it in them, but not toward each other.

My grandpa was diagnosed first. He forgot first. Soon we moved him into a home. Grandma and I visited him every day. Some days he remembered us, some days he forgot. When he forgot, it was apparent. You could see this look in his eyes, like a person who’s just been woken from sleep and is trying to find his bearings. Grandpa, unfortunately, could never find them on those days. So we would introduce ourselves and sit down with grandpa. The doctors told us to bring things that were important to grandpa, so that we could show him and rehearse his memories.

“Hi Charles”, grandma said as she sat beside his bed. She pulled a foam brick with the blue Royals logo printed on the side. He used to watch Kansas City Royals games, and throw the brick at the television when his boys upset. Then he would curse at the screen, and that was grandma’s cue to usher me out of the house to go play in the yard. She just didn’t want me hearing his language.

Grandma pulled out other things from the bag, handing them to grandpa and explaining their significance. On the bad days, there was no spark of recognition in his eyes, but on the good days, the days that he knew who were, he was excited to see them.