05/01/2007

Generation Why

My memories of grandma are 'purty' and worth cherishing for a lifetime

I think of cookies and wildflowers

By ALISSA VANDENBERGE

Special to the Record-Eagle

Four to six million people suffer from Alzheimer's in the United States, and my grandma is one of them.

She is more than a statistic: she is a mother, a friend, a wife, but most importantly, she is my grandma. The youngest of eight grandchildren, I was only able to get to know my grandma when I was much younger. My older siblings were able to spend more time with her, and can remember more than I. However, because of my young age, I believe I cherish our memories together the most.

Occasionally, my dad would take days off work, and my family would travel to Grand Rapids to visit my grandparents. I can remember my grandma baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen while everyone else played euchre. Since nobody had the patience to teach me how to play, I kept busy with antique puzzles and tops, which were once my father's. One of my most cherished memories is when my grandma and I colored together in a giant coloring book. The picture was of a young girl picking wildflowers on a sunny afternoon. My grandma turned to me and said that I will also be just as "purty” as the girl in the picture. I was fascinated and often dreamed of being just like that young girl. But when the cookies were done, she would go back in the kitchen and place them on Dutch Delft plates. The aroma of the house was filled with the scent of the delightful cookies, and my family would enjoy them together.

However, that did not last. Birthday cards were forgotten, stoves were left on, unfamiliar faces became scary and once enjoyed daily walks around the block became a challenge. The signs of Alzheimer's eventually became stronger. My grandma was unable to take care of herself, and her husband was not able to meet her needs.

My family moved my grandma into a Christian nursing home seven years ago. For a time, my grandma was able to play the piano, walk up and down the hallways or even sing hymns to the birds bathing in the garden, at the nursing home. Unfortunately, time began to steal everyday events away from her. I can't remember the last time she called me by name, or was even able to say "I love you” back. My grandmother is still alive, but she cannot talk or walk and relies entirely on the staff.

One of the last times I visited my grandmother, I wore a jean jacket that had yellow and blue flowers embroidered on one of the pockets. My grandpa, my grandma and I sat together almost in silence. But she was aware of the flowers on my jacket. I remember her reaching her arm out and touching the flowers as she tried to mumble the word "purty.” The memories flooded back, and I felt as if we were coloring together again on the floor at home. All the pain of her suffering through Alzheimer's briefly disappeared. I was rushed with emotion as the tears rolled down my face. I was the beautiful young girl picking wildflowers on a sunny afternoon.

Because of her condition, I have chosen not to visit her anymore. I realize this is entirely selfish, but it is what I feel most comfortable doing. I struggle accepting her disease, which frequently reduces me to tears. Memories of my grandma are those of my childhood, not who she is now. Because I still love her, I plan to say goodbye soon.

Armed with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and a small bouquet of wildflowers, I will celebrate my grandmother's life.

Alissa Vandenberge is a senior at Elk Rapids High School.