moments that connect us

My days with my grandmother at her nursing home feel like another lifetime ago. I helped take care of her for 16 years. She had dementia, and during the last five years of her life, I spent a lot of time at the nursing home where she lived and eventually died.

My grandmother didn't always remember who I was.

She'd say, this is my relative, or nephew, or 2nd cousin.

It didn't matter. I remembered her.

And I remembered the other elders too. There weren't many visitors, and in a way, I became everyone's nameless granddaughter.

Reading this today brought all of these beautiful humans right back to me.

I wrote this 11 years ago:

New schedule means sharing time with my grandmother on other days now besides just Monday. So, happily, this Sunday afternoon was spent with her.

“I have good friends,” she said proudly to Nurse Simi as we went off to dinner.

When we returned, we took a walk around the nursing home to check in with folk.

Found out that my grandmother's first “friend” here, Alice, died. My grandmother doesn't remember her but I do. I remember the two of them sitting together doing word search, helping each other. So sweet.

Now, in the past year and 1/2, my grandmother has gone through about 7 of the same book with about 100 puzzles in each!

Around the corner was our one-legged friend Mr. Le, still packing all of his things onto his wheelchair (a war veteran who had been on the streets homeless for many years).

I raised my hands over my head and shouted, “Mr. Le!”

He smiled his beautiful toothless smile and raised his arms over his head too. As I got close he reached toward me and we shook hands happily.

Down the hall, my adopted grandma from India saw me and immediately put her palms together. I did the same and we bowed together saying, “Namaste.”

Then, she said thank you and waved good-bye.

Elena, the sweet Filipina grandmother who would ask me to comb her hair, no longer talks. Her grandson was with her tonight. He didn't mind me touching and loving on his grandma — extra love is always accepted in this place.

She opened her eyes when I told her how beautiful she looked, stared into mine — and then she went back inside to her secret place.

I said to Daniel, “It's a hard time; just keep focusing on the love.”

“Yes,” he said, “it's all we have."

Gloria next door held my face in her hands and asked what we had for dinner.

“Fish is good for you,” she said when I told her.

Martin, who cleans every corner of the building, allowed a hug and a thank you.

“You be good, Mommy,” he said.

Mrs. Owens, my grandmother's roommate, let me give her some water tonight. She even took another drink when I said, “How 'bout one more sip?”

“One more sip,” she said with a smile.

A simple sentence but particularly moving because I thought she no longer spoke.

Lots of hugs and kisses for my grandmother.

Before we left she said, “You know? I love you SO much.”

I do know but I never tire of hearing it. ❤️

Eleven years later, what moves me is how little happens in this story.

And yet, none of it feels little to me.

It opens something inside.

The mind may not always remember.

But the heart does.