My granny...

I must say I love this lady with all my heart. She is no longer the woman I grew up living beside, because this horrible disease called Alzheimers has taken hold of her brain, but I love her as much today as I did on the fishing bank as a little girl. So I'm going to share her with you all. Granny was my daddy's mother, and to say the least he was a momma's boy until the day he died.

For as long as I can remember, my granny lived next door to us. In Amarillo when I was just a very young child, I remember her rescuing me from a horrible neighbor, who very likely would have done terrible things had she not noticed.

I don't remember walking to the beauty shop with her every week, but she always told of the time I hopped up in the chair and told the lady to "cut it all off!" Heck, that's what I want to tell them every time I get in the chair. Thankfully she stopped them just in time, because just like my husband, my daddy thought girls should have long hair.

Before I turned 5 and started school, we moved to a house in Graham. Granny lived just up the road, as did my Uncle and his family. Who needs friends when your cousins are just a short walk away? We all stayed with Granny while our parents worked. I'll never forget walking down to the river to fish with her. Even though it was a very steep decent, she could always make it down for countless hours of fishing.

We might as well have lived with her, we were all there so much. I remember one day she was cooking livers. How gross! But of course one of us wanted to "try" them, so the rest of us took the dare. OMG, that was the best thing we'd ever eaten! It wasn't until I was grown that she told me what we had really eaten was a pork chop. She didn't have enough liver, so she cooked a pork chop and shared that will all of us.

I'll also never forget making fun of Granny for farting. OMG, how gross! I promise I think of that day EVERY TIME I start farting with every step I take.

My aunt also lived with her for many years. If I learned anything from there relationship it is that no matter how old they are, siblings will ALWAYS fight! Those two ladies could go at it like my kids do today. But man could they cook. My poor husband was sure hoping I would inherit that part at least. Nope, he got the farting! When we first started dating, Sundays were family dinner days. One taste of Granny's deer meat and Aunt Belle's homemade biscuits, and it was a VERY long time before he had a Sunday lunch at his mom's house.

Even after we married, we always made time to go to Granny's house. Of course, she always had her famous fried chicken, Mexican food, or something else wonderful to eat. She is remembered in Amarillo to this day for being the Mexican food cook at the bowling alley.

Two years ago, things changed. After my dad passed away close to 6 years ago, she told us that she didn't have a reason to live. My dad worshiped the ground she walked on, and my mom was always there to care for her as well. Well around Thanksgiving of 2007, she started having some confusion, as well as some pain. Just before going into the hospital for gallbladder surgery, she lost most of her motor skills. Her daughters determined at that time that she would have to go to the nursing home. Even after being told for years that these were her wishes, when the time came, it was hard on EVERYONE. There were many tears shed, and still are. Dementia is a horrible disease to watch, but I must say through it we have stories to share. Up until recently, she's had phases where she was still very coherent. But during her confused phases, we have to laugh to keep from crying.

Not long after she was put in, my Aunt Ruby and I were in checking on her. She was still pretty weak, so we were helping her go to the bathroom. One of the aides walked past the door just enough for her to see. Of course, my aunt and I had to leave the room when she screams, "I think he raped me!" Nothing like that had ever come from her mouth, and the way it came out was so shocking and hilarious that it took us a bit to gather our composure. She has had more lesbian room mates that want to marry her than we can count. They are always hiding bodies in the nursing home, and there are gun battles nightly. One of the ladies is so very rich that she has diamonds stashed behind a picture in the wall. She also has a lady that she literally HATES. Mrs. Hoffman can't speak, and really does follow her around. Granny has on more than one occasion been not so kind to Mrs. H.

Of course one of the symptoms of Alzheimers is the paranoia. Someone is always taking things from them. For her, it's her snuff. Now this one Keith's thankful that I didn't choose to follow. She has always dipped Honest snuff. Before giving Granny a kiss, you must make sure her face is clean. Again, this has been the case for as far back as I can remember. I can't even begin to tell you how many different places we've found her snuff. During her last hospital visit, I asked a little too loudly for her liking if she needed a dip of snuff. To say the least, she cussed me, and told me that she hoped I was happy, because now they knew and would come steal it from her.

Dh and I took the kids to visit this weekend. Of course, for them, this isn't the Great Granny they knew just a short time ago. During this visit, we again played hide and seek with the snuff. Since she hides it from herself, it's always a challenge to figure out where she hid it last. She kept digging through her dresser, but it wasn't there. We checked the fridge, under the mattress, under the pillow, then I finally checked in the closet. There in the very corner, under a pile of dirty laundry was her small can of snuff. So of course, she needed a spoon and cup to get the stuff in her mouth, and then to spit in. In the few seconds it took me to get those, she had shoved the snuff down the front of her pants. She didn't have pockets, so of course Isaac cracked up when it came flying down her pants leg.

We got her a dip, then I put it back in her dresser. Nope, not there, they'll find it. So I put it back in her closet. Nope, not good enough. Back in the dresser, nope let's try the top of the closet. Nope, can't reach it there. Dresser. Closet Floor. Pillow. You get the idea! Finally she looked back in the dresser. When it wasn't there, she cussed the "church people."

During this, the lady across the hall came back with her son.
"You see that man over there?"
"Yes Granny, he's taking care of his mom."
"Nope, he's the one that's sexually assaulting all of us!"
"O.k. Granny! It's time for us to go, we love you."

Everyone got their snuff hugs and kisses and we headed back home. Is it wrong to laugh? Probably. Good Lord knows I'll probably be there one day. Does it help to laugh. You bet. I know that lady isn't my Granny. And boy do I miss the lady that helped raise me.