Grandma

The thing I loved the most about my grandmother’s house was the measuring wall. Every year my sister and I would go spend the summer with her and she would mark our height. We each had our own wall in the kitchen with our height growth marked up in a horizontal way. So different from all the other kids’ walls. But that was my grandma... different. 

My grandma was my favorite person in the world. She was the funniest and silliest woman I had ever met. She was never embarrassed to go play with us in the park, to go ice skating with us, rollerblading with us, to dress up in costumes on Halloween with us, to take us dancing. My grandma was the type that would show up at one of my sleepovers in a shark onesie and be the life of the party. She was ultimately my best friend, and I was always eager to spend the summers with her. 

I first noticed something was wrong with my grandma when I was 14. She got my sister and I into the kitchen for our measurements and lined us on the walls. Except she was putting us on the wrong walls. This may not seem like much but after 14 years of getting my height measured, she had never mistaken the walls before. I gently told her she swapped us, and she looked genuinely confused for a second. She just took it in stride and traded us before marking our heights (mine did not change) but I knew she was still confused. She was quiet the rest of the day. 

And grandma was never quiet. 

Strange things started happening after that. My grandma called my dad by his father’s name more than a few times. My grandma tried to walk out of the house with pants on. My grandma forgot to eat but argued with my mom that she did. My grandma would sleep more, go into rooms but forget why more times than I can remember, and forgot how to turn the shower on. 

 Her forgetfulness got worse as time went on. 

When I was 16, we finally convinced her to go to the hospital and get checked out. My dad and I took her and watched as the doctors did tests after tests. From cat scans to MRIs to talking to psychologists, we spent days on and off at the hospital. Waiting for an answer to what's wrong with my grandmother. Finally, after 8 days we got a result. 

She has Alzheimer’s. 

THAT’S why she was forgetting things. THAT’S why she was confused and tired all the time. THAT’S why she has been irritable and depressed.  

I felt relieved and sad at the same time as the doctor explained to us what was going on with her. He told us she will need pills and doctor visitations to keep an eye on her progress. He said it was a serious disease and there was no cure. No cure. My stomach dropped. I swallowed.  

I looked over at my grandma and my heart shattered. She was here but wasn’t. Her normal smile was gone but she didn’t look sad. She just looked confused. As if she wasn’t sure why she was there. She caught my eye and smiled. She reached over and patted my hand. “Everything is going to be okay, Ellie.” she whispered.  

I nodded. I wasn’t Ellie. Ellie was my sister. I was Anna. I cried. I cried all the way home and I cried with my mom and sister as my dad told them. I cried myself to sleep that night. My best friend was sick and at times wasn’t even there. I felt like I lost her.  

We moved into my grandma’s house at the end of the year. I watched as days go by, as months pass by. We took turns taking her to her appointments. We took turns making sure she took her medication. At times she was great and full of life. She would tell us all kinds of stories and even cook us breakfast a few times. We quickly understood that the smell of bacon and the sound of her singing when we woke up meant it was a good day. 

But those days were far and few between and our measure walls were all but forgotten.  

When I graduated high school, it was a bad day. She fell. She woke up in a full on episode. She didn’t recognize her surroundings and was having a panic attack. We tried to get to her in time, but she stumbled and fell down the stairs. Dad and I got to her right before she stumbled all the way down the stairs. We took her to the hospital and found out her hip was dislocated, and her medication was increased.  

I graduated while she was in the hospital. Her seat was empty. The next day we traded her and my sister’s rooms. She was now safely on the first floor. I also told my parents I was going to commute. I decided I didn’t want to leave my grandma.  

A year went by, and our walls were ignored. Grandma never measured our heights again. Mom and dad offered but my sister and I refused. It wasn’t the same if it wasn’t her. Grandma slowly got worse. There was nothing we could do. We just stayed by her side. She started getting volatile and after a nasty fight between her and my dad, the doctor offered to put her in a home.  

We refused. This was my grandmother’s house, so this was where she was staying.  

Ellie graduated the year after and moved out. She was torn between staying and her dreams, but we encouraged her to go. She was accepted into a university across the country to major in medicine. We were so proud. On our grandmother’s good day, we celebrated Ellie’s accomplishments. She cried and Grandma hugged her close. She moved out the next day. 

The house was a little quiet without her. 

I moved out next. My boyfriend since high school proposed to me. I was 21 and was in my last year of college. I majored in education and wanted to move closer to the school district anyways. Jerry, my fiancée, and I decided to stay in our hometown and close to my grandma. We moved in together shortly after he proposed. 

I still went and saw my grandmother on a weekly basis. I sat with her and listened to her talk and laugh and sing. I would sit with her when she was quiet and aggravated and forgot who I was. Jerry and I took turns with my parents taking her to her doctor appointments. We married on her good day. She and my dad walked me down the aisle and she sang How Do I Live by Trisha Yearwood at the reception.  

It was the last good day she had. 

A year later she was hospitalized for good. She was having more and more episodes and the medication wasn't stabilizing her anymore. Her health was also getting worse. She was refusing to eat and was getting sick more often. Dad and I would visit her twice a week while she stayed in the hospital. Ellie flew down and visited her. Mom refused. She couldn’t see her like that. She couldn’t stop crying. 

The next year she died.  

My grandmother... my best friend... died. 

She passed away in her sleep. I called Ellie and we cried together. It was the most devastating day of my young life. My dad couldn’t stop crying and it shattered me. We were devastated. One of our most precious family members was gone and we had to go on without her. 

My parents quickly left her house and moved back into theirs. We became busy with funeral arrangements. Ellie flew down for the funeral. We had it a week exactly from her death. We abandoned her house for months then years. We took turns paying for the electricity and water and kept the house off the market. We couldn’t part with it. We couldn’t part with grandma.  

5 years after her death, I became pregnant. A little girl. I was excited and happy. Jerry was also over the moon. We called Ellie and told her then we told his parents. Finally, we told mine. My parents were just as happy as everyone else, but they had a surprise for me. 

Or well... grandma had a surprise for me. 

They handed me grandma’s will and in that will was the deed to my grandmother’s house. The will said that when I fell pregnant with her first great grandchild, I was to receive the house. So, I can have a safe place to raise my child. A place filled with happy memories and love. A place where I could take wall measurements and make memories of my own. 

I cried and my parents held me.  

Jerry and I decided to take the house. We put ours on the market and took to work cleaning up and boxing some of grandma’s things. It was hard. I cried more than once. My parents and Ellie helped.   

We wanted to keep the good memories, so we kept all her photos on the walls. We even left her bedroom almost the way it was as the guestroom labeling it as grandma’s room. There was also one other thing we kept the same in the house. 

We kept the measurements. 

We also kept an empty wall so my child’s measurements could be added to the memories. And as I take their heights, I will tell them all about their great grandma and how amazing a person she really was.