Yesterday.
She would have been 89.
And while rationally I know that if she was still alive it would have been oh so painful for all of us, oh so complicated and sad, but I am missing her. And on the important days the missing her wafts in and wafts out. You know it almost feels like nothing else in the entire world should or could happen on August 12th. It can only be Grandmother’s birthday.
But this is the first one that I have ever known where she was not here.
Are birthdays celebrated in heaven? Did my Grandfather pour her a little glass of sweet German wine? Did they take a moment to peek in our life down here to see if we were celebrating too? Were they shocked by what they saw?
The other day the New York Times published an article about a recent study that reveals that a spinal-fluid test can accurately predict Alzheimer’s. Of course I don’t have to tell you that all of the air left my body when I read the headline. Immediately I wondered how I could get such a test. Wondered if any spinal fluid of mine was hanging around from any of my many lumbar punctures from a few years ago…
There is no doubt that if I was able to have this test done (& by able I mean afford) that I would have it done today. I honestly can not imagine anyone that knows Alzheimer’s first-hand wouldn’t want to know. I know that there isn’t a cure (yet) but there are treatments and plans and steps that can be investigated.
Oh the things we went through. The things that I never want to put W or his children through…
I keep wondering when the bad day memories will fade away and the best day memories will rise to the top of my mind. I’m not there yet. It takes me a good ten minutes. I’ll see something, read something, over-hear something and like a flash I am back at her bedside at the nursing home or helping her shuffle down the hall in the home we lived in in Florida. And after living in the moment of sad I can usually find a specific moment of amazing- a specific moment of lucidity. Her knowing W’s name. Her holding W’s feet.
It’s complicated, this missing someone and yet not wishing them back.
Before I left for BlogHer one of the posts I wrote a few years ago about caregiving for Grandmother was reshared in this space as part of sponsored content. I’m bringing it up again because the campaign is almost over and if you wanted to nominate a special caregiver in your life the clock is ticking…
{ 20 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh Calli, I didn’t go through what you did but I know I am still desperately missing my Grandma over 7 years later. I am so sorry for your loss and your continued pain.
I’m missing your grandmother too.
I think I’d get the test too. Hey, can I nominate you for that prize? I started to the other day but then thought you might not be eligible.
Thinking of you, hon. Big hug. Yeah, I’d want to know, too. That article sounded optimistic about treatments as well. It’s so important that you write about your experiences. You do such a service with your writing. xoxo
“I keep wondering when the bad day memories will fade away and the best day memories will rise to the top of my mind. I’m not there yet.”
I too am struggling with this, thank you for writing it down.
With Max’s birthday coming up in a couple of weeks I was also wondering whether they celebrate up there. I know I will be here with or with out him.
Can I send you a hug or two ? HUGS
I remain fully, completely and utterly convinced that they celebrate birthdays in heaven. I am positive of it.
Sending love.
Many years before the good rises up first. I am just barely there now, 14 years in. That’s crap news, I know. Maybe it’s faster for other people.
Thinking of you.
♥ Thinking of her.
Hugs, hugs, hugs.
I often wish that there was a test or multiple tests that we could all have done that would help us prevent these diseases or illnesses from attacking us.
Thinking so much of you, especially as I am headed into the Alzheimer’s wing of a nursing home tomorrow.
One unfortunate thing about losing someone to a disease is that the illness is your most recent experience together. The 15 minutes I saw DH’s grandfather skeletal and weak from cancer on his deathbed competes in my brain with the hundreds of images of him as a plump and vibrant man.
Same thing with houses. I have lived in many, many houses. In some, the last images of the empty house on moving day are as strong or stronger than the years spent inside the fully furnished house.
I don’t know that the bad day memories will get weaker over time, but hopefully the badness will not feel as bad, and the best day memories will come faster and stronger.
My parents probably celebrated enough for her I am sure. With a birthday and an anniversary to celebrate on such a special day, I can understand the importance of August 12. One day, hopefully many many many years from now, it will be a special and memorable day for me even more so than it is now. I can only hope that you spent the day remembering the fun times and the laughter that so many years provided. Big hugs to you. Knowing what I know now, that day will be even more special to me than it is now. I am happy to say that two amazing women share that birthday.
hope the day passed peacefully for you and your mom.
the last line just says so much.
I am here from Vee’s blog, just wanting to say happy birthday to your Grandma. It’s nice to think of her sipping that glass of wine up there. Looking forwards to the time you can remember those good moments rapidly and readily.
Bea
So hard to see loved ones robbed of what makes them who they are, even moreso when you’re the primary caregiver. That you remember and honor her and her tenderness with W, that’s the good stuff.
Sending much love. To you and to M.
My sweet Grandmother also had Alzheimer’s before she died. Ug! What a terrible disease.
I loved your last line, “…missing someone and yet not wishing them back.” I can totally relate.
Beautiful post.
P.S. It was great meeting you in NY at BlogHer!
Thinking of you sweeties. Hugs.
Hugs. I miss you.
I don’t think I’d get the test… and I have had a few great-grandparents with dementia (I’m fairly confident my g-gma had Alzheimers, but was never formally diagnosed). I’d live in fear for the rest of my life, moreso than I already do.
Sorry, posted too soon. Happy 89th, Cali’s gma, you are so missed! I hope you had cake!
“It’s complicated, this missing someone and yet not wishing them back.”
wow, girl. have you captured how i miss my daddy.
i would like to pipe in and say that i believe they DO celebrate birthdays in heaven, and in my mind, loved ones of my friends are friends with my loved ones there ~ and i like to think maybe my dad played a special song for grandmother on her day…
love you and MISS YOU