Jennifer is my author rep. a talented lady who is helping me embark on a brand new career her insight is much better than my outsite and I need her to help me present my words in the best possible way. Jennie has put footsteps on my heart and I know that our relationship will be a long and pleasurable journey. I have many friends that I have welcomed into my life and they have become a part of my life, the most important part of my life. Jennie is special and I dedicate this page to her and her talents.
Come right in and have a drink on me, sit yourself down
and enjoy the talents of
JENNIFER L WRIGHT
This is her first contribution to Jennifers Place
a story that touches my heart as I am sure it will touch yours.
THE DEVINE LOVE OF GRANDPA
As a young child, there was no bigger person in my life than my grandfather. In all reality he stood a mere 5 feet 6 inches tall. What he lacked in height, he more than made up in heart. In my early childhood years I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and knew the unconditional love that most people only hear about in stories and movies. Thinking of that part of my childhood, all I can recall is happiness and laughter and love. I never even knew it was possible for a grandparent to scold a child until I saw my grandmother admonish my cousin for climbing all over the marble coffee table. I was in absolute shock then, but now as an adult realize she was only fearful that the heavy table would tip over and hurt him. That was my first witness to the fact that grandparents are human too. Yet, that realization still didn’t quite apply to my grandfather until I was much older. When I was newly married and pregnant with my first child my beautiful grandmother died. The entire family thought surely my grandfather would soon follow. In one way we were right in our assumption. Yet we were completely wrong.
Once my grandmother died, my grandfather began a decline of his own. Although we had questioned his health for years because of a myriad of problems he had with skin cancer and his kidneys, it was actually his mind that began the irreversible descent. He was easily confused and had begun wandering. At one point he wandered off in the middle of the night to be found several streets away unable to find his way home. My father had to arrange the locks on the doors so that my grandfather could not get out at night. We had always feared for my grandfather’s physical health, but it had not occurred to us that even more devastating would be for him to decline mentally. When he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s we were all taken aback. We were fully expecting him to decline physically, but for him to lose his mental abilities was something we had never anticipated. How could someone so smart, witty, creative and lively be turning into someone we wouldn’t even recognize? What was happening to the man we loved so dearly?
Years passed and the decline continued. I myself was getting a divorce and had to return to working fulltime in order to support myself and my young daughter. My aunt ran a daycare out of her home and gladly agreed to watch my daughter so I would not have to put her in a daycare with strangers. Many days my grandfather would visit and spend the day in the recliner alternating between napping and enjoying watching the children play. Every so often he would look at my daughter and say, “Well, who’s pretty little girl is that?” and my aunt would say, “That’s Jennifer’s little girl, Daddy.” He replied, “Well, I didn’t know Jennifer was married!” My aunt and grandfather had this conversation on several occasions, one time in particular ending differently. When he again asked whose pretty little girl my daughter was, my aunt answered again that she was mine. As usual he remarked he did not know I was married. My aunt then answered that I was getting a divorce. My grandfather sat up, drew himself up to his full stature and very deliberately and slowly asked, “Was he stepping out on her?” It seemed no matter how confused or foggy his mind was, his eternal love remained. And no matter how many times he forgot family members’ or friends’ names and faces, I never seemed to be one of them. When I walked in a door he would say, “Jennifer? Is that you? You’re all grown up!”
As the years passed we found there were so many difficult decisions to make. The majority of these fell to my oldest aunt who had become my grandfather’s caretaker. She was not very young and her health started to become an issue as well. So she and my grandfather moved in with her daughter and her family. The one thing the entire family would always agree on was that my grandfather would never spend time in a nursing home. We wanted him to spend his final years with the family he had created and loved so much.
It never failed to amaze me that someone who has become a shell of his former self could still retain so much of the spirit of his former life. I saw this in many of my grandfather’s attributes that remained throughout his illness. His sense of humor, his love of music, love of children and family. Through his desolation he found happiness in the laughing of my many young cousins, in my aunt’s beautiful singing voice, and in sitting and holding hands with loved ones. He could no longer pluck the strings on his beloved mandolin, but he could tap his foot along with any music we played. And though he lost himself many times in past memories, at least they were good memories. While he was actually sitting in a dialysis chair, in his mind he was back in his youth and fishing at his favorite fishing hole. Or he was teaching his true love, my grandmother, how to drive a car and his body would lurch forward at the time she slammed her foot down on the brake too quickly. While we could be happy with the thought that he was reliving these wonderful memories, we also had to deal with the fact that his mind-wanderings were making it difficult for the dialysis technicians to keep him still during his treatments. And it was only a matter of time when his doctor approached us regarding his treatments.
We then had a horrifying choice to make. Continue his treatments as best we could and extend his life indefinitely, or discontinue his treatments and let him go peacefully. We had to determine what kind of “quality of life” he had. How does a family make that determination? When to us it may look like he is sitting in a chair blankly, in his mind he could be walking along the Ohio River with his beloved wife. While watching my young cousins playing he may be remembering his own children at that age. How could we make this decision? My aunt even attempted to ask him what course of action he would prefer. At first his answer was an astounding yes, he was ready to go and be with his wife in Heaven. The next day he was horrified at the thought of dying. The decision would have to be made for him.
Through many disagreements and heartbreaking arguments, it was finally decided that we would discontinue my grandfather’s dialysis treatments. We didn’t know how much longer he would last, but we knew it would not be long.
Yet, almost as a final parting gift, or as a means to convey his understanding for the decision, my grandfather’s final days were spent in a state of almost complete lucidity. He was lively, conversational and aware. And, as always, completely loving. In those days he gave family members more happy memories. More memories to cherish of this beautiful man who once bounced us on his knees, would play music for us, taught us to fish, and even through the ravages of a debilitating mind disease, taught us what it truly means to love unconditionally and without end. A love which I pass on to my own children. They will never know their great-grandpa, but they will know his love through all of us that were lucky enough to be a part of his journey through this life. A journey he re-lived in his head many times. A journey that had some rough roads and tough times, but always ending in the loving arms of his family.