I'm Anna and I Love You

Well, after two days of relative bliss, yesterday was a hard day. Gran didn't seem to rest well through Wednesday night. When she woke Thursday morning she thought that it was evening time. I couldn't convince her otherwise, despite the sunshine coming through the windows.

When she ate breakfast she asked, "Where's mom?" (referring to my mom). I would answer, "She's at school." Then she would say, "Well, I guess she'll be home pretty soon." I would remind her that it was 8 in the morning. She would look at the clock and say, "Eight in the morning? Oh. I didn't realize..." She would eat a few bites and then we would start again with "Where's mom?"

Later that morning she wanted to know where her purse was. She needed her keys. Where was her car? She told Emily she would pick up Avery and she needed to do something else that she couldn't remember. I tried to tell her that she didn't have her car here, that she doesn't drive anymore. That she doesn't have to get anything for Emily and that Avery is at school. She grew irritated with me. She said, "People think old folks are going crazy but its the young folks that are driving them there." She crossed her arms and sighed. 

As the day went on, she knew less and less of me. She didn't ask me about mom. The feeling that we belonged together left and the feeling of politeness that one employs with a stranger came in. She asked where I came from and wondered who those children (my children) are. For the first time in a long time, I asked, "Do you know who I am?" She stared at me blankly. I answered for her, "I'm Anna."

"You are Anna? I didn't know."

I could tell there was still no connection. "I'm Anna. Darla's daughter. Your granddaughter." I continued. 

"Darla has a daughter?"

"Yes, Gran. Darla has 3 daughters and a son." I tried to explain.

I did my best but she didn't make the connection. She didn't seem as agitated anymore. Just resigned to being where she was and who she was with. If I offered her something, she would say, "Whatever the others are having." 

I mostly suffered for her. I want her to know me and be comforted by my presence. I can't imagine what it feels like to feel like you are in a place you have never been with people you don't know and you don't know how you got there. I can't deny that it hurt my feelings a bit when she kept scooting over on the couch or leaning as far as she could away from us like we were strangers in a hotel lobby. It is the kind of feeling that is natural to have but that you talk yourself out of feeling with rational thoughts like "they don't know", or "they can't help it".  Like when you get off work and go to get your child that you missed so much and they cling to the babysitter. 

Gran continued to struggle with her confusion even in her slumber last night. She spoke, even yelled and reached in the air for hours while she seemed to be sleeping. She would start herself awake and try to tell me what she needed and realize that I couldn't help her with what she wanted and try to go back to sleep. She began to rest quietly around 2 am. 

Today she is back to the "normal"we had established the other day. I'm not sure what she knows or who she knows but she seems content. She is watching another old movie ("Casablanca") this morning. They seem to be the only thing that I can get her engaged in. This morning she has even asked about the actors' names. The same actors' names she taught me so long ago when I watched these movies sitting with her in her rose pink recliner. 

If she could absorb it and it wouldn't confuse her more, I would tell her all the memories like that I have with her in them and most importantly of all, I would say, "Remember, Granny, I'm Anna, Darla's daughter, your granddaughter. You have known me all my life. You have loved me all my life. I'm not just taking care of you. I love you." 

I'm glad though that I don't have to make her remember. I can tell her every day, every hour, every minute if I need to, "Granny, I'm Anna and I love you."

Anna Becoming