I
can't really remember a time before my grandmother ("Gigi") was
a part of my daily life. She lived a few blocks away from my parents and was a
constant presence throughout my childhood and that of my four brothers and
sisters. My grandfather died when I was only 2 so instead of enjoying their
golden years together, she kept herself busy with her friends and
family, especially my mother, her only daughter.
While we did some
more adventurous vacations in my youth, our major family vacation became trips
to a Canadian Shakespeare festival that Gigi, formerly the head of a college
drama department, enjoyed (try explaining why you went to a Canadian
Shakespeare festival instead of Disney World to fellow fifth graders- they will
not get it). However, it was on these trips that we first started to really
understand her decline into dementia. Her behavior became increasingly erratic
and paranoid, and she no longer took any joy in our trips which used to be her
favorite time of year.
She became convinced that people wanted to steal from
her and started hiding her credit cards and money throughout her house. Each
day, she grew increasingly confused. For a long time, everyone was in denial,
thinking that Gigi had simply grown more particular, but it became apparent that
something serious was going on. My mother was her main caretaker, taking her
out every day, cleaning her, and cleaning up after her so that Gigi could
continue to live in her own house even though she could no longer care for
herself.
In the fall of 2003, my grandmother took a spill, breaking her ankle
and forcing everyone to accept that Gigi had to receive full-time care
in a 24 hour facility. Although my father had suggested a few years prior
that Gigi put her assets in a trust should anything happen, she became
convinced he was attempting to steal from her and due to her refusal, we got to
watch as her entire life savings were used to pay for her nursing home.
Even after this, astronomical bills still haunted my parents such that they got
to undertake the equivalent of a sixth child's college education.
During these
years, my mother went every single day to see her and care for her. She fought
for Gigi's right to dignity even though my grandmother had no idea she had been
insulted by the indignity of Alzheimer's and dementia.
My grandmother passed
away on February 27, 2008.
Her funeral was on a horribly cold and
apocalyptic-seeming day and I think she would have enjoyed the drama of it had
she been alive to see it. Although I don't believe my grandmother would have
totally loved the idea of the marathon (the woman did not even own a pair of
pants), I know she would have been inspired by the dedication and determination
it takes. I run for her, but also for my mother (who also does not exactly love
the idea of marathons- I think she thinks I'm nuts?).
This illness is
devastating to the afflicted, but the caretakers have to deal with this
devastation well after the loved one has passed. I'm so proud to be a part of
this team and to continue this fight for all of those with Alzheimer's and for
all of their families.
Good luck to everyone and see you on November 3rd!
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