I made a trip out to ATL to see my Grammie Helen one last time. It is clear that we are in the final stages of dementia. What began many years back, and progressed more rapidly over the past year, has led us to this moment.
To me, the Grammie I really knew, had our goodbyes long ago. Now a beautiful and happy child-like shell of herself is all that exists. But today we had some laughs (I fake picked my nose in front of her, and got her patented “don’t you do that!” reaction, which may have been the most words she strung together in a long time) and a lot of patient sitting.
She is down to drinking juice and bites of cappuccino chip ice cream. Today, she managed to take down a bowl of applesauce, which was the first “solid” food she had in 10 days. Not expecting any sort of recovery at this point, but to see her improve for however brief a moment made for a special afternoon.
Surrounded by some family members, and a few close family friends, was nice. She has a lot of love in her life, garnered by doling out so much of it throughout life.
But the moment that I will take with me as my final memory, was singing to/with her. I have a “father singing to a two-year-old quality” voice, but I gave her all the songs from childhood I could muster. From Twinkle Twinkle to the ABCs, we sang. I even busted out my trusty “Joy To The World” by 3 Dog Night.
Her mind was able to grasp on to the melodies and the words. She didn’t hit every note, but her getting the word at the end of every line was enough to know that she is in there.
The Grammie that sang to me as a newborn boy, still able to sing to me in her final days.
I love you Grammie. See you next time.