Weekend, Where Did You Go?

You don't know how much you love the computer's space bar until it's gone. Mine was dislodged this morning by a grabby little girl.

My parents picked up Granny about two hours ago. It was a quick 36 hour stay. Of course, in the world of Alzheimer's and Dementia, it can be a bit longer. She thought she'd been here for days. She also thought it was Christmas a couple of times. In her defense, today was much gloomier-looking, and certainly chillier, than yesterday. And we were eating cookies out of a Christmas cookie tin. I'm just relieved she didn't mention it around Heath. He's finally stopped singing Christmas carols and asking about Santa's whereabouts.

Mostly, Granny settled into our lives quite well. We were even able to get her to talk about her childhood this evening during dinner. I sometimes forget that this woman was born in 1927, the oldest of nine children, and was a small child during the Great Depression. A small child during the Great Depression in Hays, North Carolina. Where is Hays, you ask? It's the holler in between Trap Hill and Mountain View. Where on earth are those places? Right by North Wilkesboro. And it's not such a fur piece from Winston-Salem. Granny is straight-up, home-grown, mountain girl.

She talked about her siblings. Two were in the Korean War. One was named Raymond. The other was named Ray. (Think: This is my brother, Darryl, and my other brother, Darryl.) She talked about meeting my Grandpa at a church revival, and her father not liking the fact that his daddy was a bootlegger. (Think: O Brother, Where Art Thou?) And she talked about keeping cow's milk in cans in the spring during the hot summer months. All weekend she kept saying, I can't believe I made it this long to see Great-Grandchildren. Her time with us clearly meant a lot to her.

And it meant a lot to us. She can play the longest, most enthusiastic game of Peek-a-boo with Stella, and made an excellent dance partner for her, as well. Heath found multiple uses for her walking cane, including setting it up as a ramp for his race cars.

And I keep getting this image in my head; a flash of my favorite picture of her. It's a black and white photo taken when she was in her early teens; maybe 13 or 14. She's standing in the middle of two of her brothers. They are dressed in bib overalls and have clearly been working in the field. She has a toddler on one hip, an infant on the other. And two preschoolers are sitting on her feet. She's wearing an apron, a slight smile, and look of exhaustion. If you didn't know any better, you would think they were her own children, not her brothers and sisters.

When she was leaving tonight, she hugged me and said, I reckon I've been enough of a burden on ya, I better get on now, and then let out a nervous giggle.

It's the least we can do, Granny.