On Saturday, my mom, Ruyman, and I went up to Port Angeles to visit my dad, who works up there. He stays in a rental house owned by an eccentric who believes rocks, animal statuary, and fake flowers are the last word in gardening. The place is near my grandmother, who lives in the semi-condemned house my grandpa built, and my grandfather, who lives in the same nursing home his father died in.
I hadn't seen either of my grandparents for about 3 years, so it was kind of shock to realize that even though I don't age, they still do. Grandma has gone pretty well blind. (Her cooking, always bad, is now downright dangerous.) Grandpa, who started having memory problems about the time I went to college (e.g. "So are you in third grade this year?") has developed full-blown Alzheimer's and can no longer walk or speak. He looked at me and squeezed my hand like a champ, though. Being with Grandpa reminded me of something a cousin said of my other grandmother with dementia: "My grandma died a long time ago. Somehow, her body is still around." I don't know if Grandpa is still in there or not, but I sort of hope he doesn't know about the drool, the smells, and the strangely cheerful jazz music of the nursing home. I think it would have made him mad.
This reminds me why I need to get an Advanced Directive. That would suck to be kept alive just so you could eat, poop, and squeeze people's hands.
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