Grandpa's Fourth of July 2011

A Fourth of July would not be complete without a story about WWII or Stalin’s reign of terror. It also is never complete without a stain on the table cloth or me spilling something greasy on myself. I hadn’t seen my grandfather or my parents since Father’s Day. Ironically enough it was a pleasant family dinner today and complete with stains. I ate too many rolls, and chased the family cat around but other than that it really felt like family, a feeling I’ve been wanting for several holidays come and gone.

Often times I’m frustrated with my Grandfather, but not with him, just with the memory loss. There are times that I want to recall memories with him and talk about them, engage myself in something meaningful with him to hold on to… He simply doesn’t remember anymore.

His own frustration is starting to show, and of course there is an excuse for it. “I bought batteries the other day and spent $15.00 on them.” I then ask, “Well what did you buy batteries for?” Struggling to recall the reason he bought them, with the purchase being last week, he could not, and then indicates that there are a lot of things you put batteries in. I draw a blank stare and pretend the moment never happened.

My family was thrown off for years by the hidden health condition of my Grandmother; her state was often masked by the showmanship of her ability to “MC” a good party. Only to find out later sometime in 2004 in an emergency room that she had about a week to live. There is no hiding the fact that my Grandfather (in what the medical world refers to this) is failing.

However in the rarest of circumstances he reappears again. His dialog clear and direct and…meaningful with emotion attached.

He opened up conversation this time with a loose and faded memory of recurring dreams of my Grandmother. I too have them often, but my father doesn’t apparently. So she’s quite connected to us both and in our dreams. This was finally a story I was interested in, my Grandmother. Not WWII, not a knock-knock joke from the recent Reader’s Digest; but family.

I jumped at the opportunity, and asked him what they were about, and he said, “Oh…..She’s just always giving me directions, telling me where to go, or we would be on a vacation together and she’s giving me instructions”. I grinned, and wanted to contribute further, however my Father quickly diverted the attention to the passing of mashed potatoes and gravy other than focus on my Grandmother. Then the conversation stopped.

I guess I’m the only one that wants the memory. Just like my Grandfather struggling to hold on to memories, some are gone, simple tasks are difficult, but my Grandmother has never left.

The dreams of direction hopefully will give him a path. God willing I know I need some direction myself.

Have a Happy Independence Day, eat mashed potatoes, stain your clothes, and make a memory to hold onto. They’re important.