Two pairs of eyes fixed on each other, neither blinking. One set, bright and blue, are full of life. Those eyes stare purposefully. The other set, not quite so bright or blue, are hollow and drawn and stare without choice.
“Robert, what are you doing?” The familiar voice shatters the silence and ends the contest in a draw.
“I don’t know Grandma,” Robert answers as he attaches himself to the old woman’s leg. "I was outside raking leaves and I saw Grandpa in the window. He seemed to be staring at me so I ran inside to see what he wanted.”
“He was looking out the window at you? That's so neat. You used to sit and watch him rake leaves for hours. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, I think so. Maybe he was watching me like I used to watch him. I tried to talk to him but all he did was stare. I thought maybe he wanted to have a contest.”
The idea catches the old woman as unexpectedly funny. She chuckles, but only for a moment. “No sweetie, Grandpa Edgar isn’t trying to win a staring contest,” she says as she picks up the young boy. “He is just searching his mind for memories.”
“Searching his mind? What does that mean?”
There is no good way to explain Alzheimer’s to a eight-year-old boy, but she instinctively knows it is a grandmother’s duty to try. “Come over here and I’ll tell you,” she says motioning for him to join her on the comfortable chair. The rocker, placed in the room to allow the old woman to spend time with her husband, is just big enough to accommodate a grandmother and her favorite little boy. He jumps into welcoming arms then settles down next to her. “You see, Robert, your mind is like a house.”
“A house, grandma?”
“That’s right. It’s kind of small when you are young. You don’t have many memories so you don’t need many rooms.”
“What color is it?”
“I don’t know? What color do you want it to be?” she responds with a grin.
“How about gray?”
“Gray it is.” She smiles. His choice is perfect. “Now where was I?”
“My house is small because I’m little.”
“Yes, that’s right. You have rooms for eating and sleeping, and another one for playing.”
“And a room for you, Grandma.”
“I hope so,” she responds as she tickles him a bit before continuing. “As we get older, we need to build more rooms.”
“Why?”
“Because we need a room for friends and one for school, and maybe even a room for a pet.”
“Can I have a dog in my house?”
“Robert, that’s up to your mom and dad.”
“Okay, but what about Grandpa? Why does he need to search for memories?”
“I was getting to that,” she says, enjoying his questions. “You see Grandpa has been building his house for a very long time. It has more rooms than you can count.”
“Like a mansion?”
“Yes, exactly, a lot like a mansion. He has rooms where he goes to remember his mom and dad and rooms for all his childhood friends. He has rooms for the horses he used to ride on the farm where grew up and rooms where he visits his friends from the army.”
“Why doesn’t he just go and visit them for real?”
“It's not as easy as it used to be. When you are young, all of your friends are close, sometimes within walking distance. When you get older, like Grandpa and me, your friends scatter to the winds. Many of them exist only in your memories.”
“So, some of Grandpa’s friends can only be found in his mansion? In his memories?”
“That’s right.”
“But why does he have to search for them? Why are they so hard to find?”
“Your grandpa’s memories are a lot like leaves in a strong wind—they blow quickly by and then they are gone. He can only see them for a few moments.”
“Like candy wrappers?”
“Candy wrappers?”
“Yeah, last Halloween I filled my pockets with candy and went to a special spot at my school.”
“You went to school by choice?”
“It was Saturday, Grandma. Saturday is when school is cool.”
“Good point,” she says smiling.
“My school is practically in my backyard, and on Saturdays, there is no one around. There is a large cubby where I can hide. It has brick walls on three sides, and when it's blowing, the wind spins everything in a circle, kind of like a tornado.”
“A tornado?” she says, pretending to be afraid.
“It’s not really a tornado, but when I let one of the candy wrappers lose, it spun round and round.”
“That’s a room, Robert. You built it for a very special memory. Did you try to catch the wrapper?”
“No, I just watched it until mom called me in for dinner,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What memory is Grandpa looking for?”
“I'm not sure, Robert, you see your Grandpa’s house—”
“His mansion!”
“Yes, you're right. Your Grandpa’s mansion is not only very large, it's also very old. Sometimes as things get older, they don’t work as well as they used to.”
“Like my first bike. I loved that bike. My mom said I was too big for it, but I rode it until it broke.”
“It’s a lot like that,” she says, as she gives the little boy a hug.
“Grandpa Edgar loves his memories like you loved that bike, but it’s getting harder and harder for him to find them.”
“Does he remember me, Grandma?”
“You are one of his favorite memories. When you were born, from your very first day, he called you Pumpkin.”
“That was him? I remember being called Pumpkin, but I couldn’t remember by who?"
“It was your Grandpa, Robert, and when he stares at you, I know he is searching the rooms of his mansion, trying to find those memories, trying to find his Pumpkin.”
“I think I understand now, Grandma. Should I stare at him some more—will it help?”
“I’m sure it would,” she replies, as she starts to get up from the chair. “But right now it’s time for some lunch. How about bologna and cheese? That was your dad’s favorite.”
“Ok, Grandma, ” Robert responds, taking the old woman's hand to lead her to the door.
“Pumpkin.” The voice trembles, but the word is clear. The two of them turn to see a smile on Grandpa Edgar’s face, his eyes, the windows of his mansion, are now bright and welling with tears.
“He found me, Grandma!”
“He found you, Robert.”
“And the tears? Are the tears like rain at his mansion?”
“They sure are, Robert. Gentle rain and joyful tears.”
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
38 comments
you took me to your own world again, After Delilah and Peter now I'm with you in the world of Robert and his grandma add this to our deal, brother
Reply
You are always so kind. It’s my pleasure to work with you, my friend.
Reply
Beautiful... and the description she provides for that age level is so perfect. Thank you for a great story and a happy ending. :)
Reply
It’s such an insidious disease. I’m so glad what I was trying to do came through so clearly. Thanks for taking the time to bless me with your comment.
Reply
Heartstrings pulled. It’s lovely, the way you depict young Robert and his grandma. I really like the house/mansion analogy. Reminds me very much of my father- in-law, who battled Alzheimer’s and his caregivers for 16 years. He passed away 3 years ago at 96. I had the dementia vibe for my story this week too - must be in the air… (And the title is perfect.)
Reply
Cindy, you are on my must read list this week. We vibers have to stick together. I know this disease has touched just about everyone. We have to take what little happy endings we can get. Thanks for the read and kind words.
Reply
Being someone who works in a nursing home this is the best explanation of Alztimers i have ever read its sweet and understandable this is well written and always enjoy reading your submissions
Reply
This is so nice on so many levels. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment so kindly.
Reply
This is wonderful. As tender an explanation imaginable for a malady that's often described in such frightening terms. I'm so glad you wrote it and I'm just as glad I got to read it. Really beautiful - and useful.
Reply
You made my day. You always do. Thank you for being so good to me with your kind words.
Reply
The words are yours. Thom, and Reedsy is a safe haven for writers to speak their minds. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't my truth. Please continue to write.
Reply
What a great description of Alzheimer's. I am going to use that if you don't mind. Great story!
Reply
Marty, I really don’t mind. In fact I’m honored you asked. Thanks for your encouragement.
Reply
Ah what a delightful way to describe such a sad condition! I love how grandma accepts losing her partner and makes a sweet world out of it to help others cope with it too!
Reply
There is a loneliness to those who must care for people with Alzheimer’s. I’m glad you felt the twinges of sweetness. I wish that for all caregivers. Thank you!!!
Reply
Wow, Thom, you got me again. Such a beautiful, tender story. I felt like I was in my grandma's lap and remembering my grandpa. You have such a beautiful way with words and feelings. Great job. Cal
Reply
Cal, you are becoming a real friend to me. I hope I bless you like you bless me. You always make me want to write more.
Reply
Thom, yes I feel we've become good friends. Hope you enjoyed the holidays. I am reading some other stories, but will be back to some of yours in the near future. Hope 2023 is good for you.😊
Reply
well done. Clever title. My background is in neuro. I enjoyed this perspective on this devastating disease.
Reply
This comment is so deeply appreciated. You are a warrior fighting for people. I’m so glad my story spoke to you. Thank you.
Reply
Super nicely done. Your opening is both beautiful and engaging, starting with the eyes (being the windows to the soul) and then moving in to this gentle discussion of Alzheimer's.
Reply
It’s such a hard topic but one that can actually be beautiful. I love the strength people show when confronted with the worst. Thanks for being so nice. It means so much to me.
Reply
Bittersweet is my cozy blanket of choice and I just wrapped myself up in this one. The dialogue of grandmother and grandson is beautifully and believably rendered. I really like how Robert takes the relatable analogy to a house and applies it to his life: the flying candy wrappers for example. More than anything, this would be a helpful and beautiful way to help a small child understand Alzheimer's. Well done.
Reply
Rebecca, your comments are almost as impressive as your stories and that’s a very high bar. I know I’ve said this before but you are one of the people who I wait patiently to hear from. I always am lifted by your words. Thank you so much.
Reply
Minus 11 here and I'll take all the literary warm blankets on offer this week but yours would always be a first choice😉
Reply
Two very different bedtime genre stories either of us submitted this week. Thanks for taking a look at mine. The intergenerational dialogue here is well-executed. I'd heard of the memory-as-space analogy before, not as a house specifically, but for people who needed a mnemonic device - using an actual physical space to assist in the memorization of a speech. In your story, grandma, discusses rooms as storehouses for memories. I thought this was a nice touch.
Reply
Thanks Mike. We really did come at it from different ways this week but I think we both had good outcomes. Thanks for the read and the great feedback.
Reply
Such a sweet story, Thom....I love how the simplicity of it allows all the emotion to shine through. And great dialogue - it all flowed easily and naturally which, I've discovered, is not so easy to achieve. Great work!
Reply
powerful story! I went through this with my grandpa so this really tugs at my heart strings. So many people don't understand mental health or mental decline and this is a very helpful and touching story. thank you
Reply
Greetings to everyone reading this testimony. I was rejected by my husband after three(3) years of marriage just because another woman had a spell on him and he left me and the kids home and moved in with the lady . one day I was reading articles about spell casters , I clicked this youtube link https://youtu.be/kBvs5nQcjWo and read how Dr Jumba helped a woman to get back her lover within 24 hours and i gave him a reply to his address and he told me not to worry he will help me bring back my husband and make him love me forever. I belie...
Reply
Thanks for the like this week, Thom. My favorite part of your story is how well you captured an eight-year-olds temperament. I can really feel the patience and love from the Grandmother as well.
Reply
When I got to the part where the title clicked, whew, that was a satisfying realization. Gray matter, gray mansion. Amazing, Thom. You used dialogue to deliver such a beautiful message and metaphor about Alzheimer's disease, while simultaneously bringing us into an endearing relationship between grandparent and grandchild. This was, once again, a lovely and unique approach to this prompt, and a delightful read. Thanks, Thom!
Reply
Nice symbolism. As our mansions grow larger, with more and more memories, we can kind of get lost in them can't we. Little heart string tug at the end. Well done.
Reply
A tender story with such a beautiful way of describing memory in a way the young boy can understand and not be frightened by. A real glimpse into the world of age and memories told in a way that made it very relatable.
Reply
Oh wow, that was sad. In a good way though. I wasn’t expecting the happy ending, but thanks for adding that in there! :) I enjoyed this alot, and I look forward to your next story!
Reply