For Better or Worse
“You coming you stupid bastard?” Gram blurted out as she wheeled
her way toward the door that leads outside in the back of the vending room in
the Long Term unit. “Come on, I’m going
home!” she continued, partially twisting around in the wheelchair so that I knew
she was addressing me.
For the past couple of weeks, Gram’s been living up to the
name that the first aide she encountered at Elmcroft Assisted Living affably
gave her the day she arrived back in March of 2010. “Spunky” stuck with her throughout her tenure
at Elmcroft – not only in name, but also in demeanor. But lately, she’s not only spunky; she’s been
downright nasty, at least with me.
One of the most amazing things I find about Alzheimer’s disease,
is how Gram can look right at me but see someone else. Granted, there are times that she sees me as
Mikey, the little boy, and others that she sees me as Michael, the grown man,
but in those cases, I’m still me. But
the times when she sees me as a completely different person, such as her dad,
or her son, or as it was this past week, her husband - these times really amaze
me. She not only calls me by their
names, but she also treats me the way she treated them. It is very real to her and I have learned over the years to never try to argue these things. It only upsets her. I go with the flow.
To me, it’s clear that her comment above and her general
nastiness toward me lately, were actually directed toward Pap, my grandfather
and her husband – the person she saw when she first looked at me that night
when I arrived and found her in the vending room. That’s exactly how she
talked to him – and him to her for that matter.
And the angry, hateful look on her face was typical of how she looked at
Pap when she was angry.
Gram and Pap were married 56 years when he died in June of
1994. They bickered constantly. I would best describe their marriage as a
love- hate relationship, one characterized by lots of yelling. “Why don’t you take a good suck on my ass,”
was one of Pap’s favorite comebacks when Gram was screaming at him. “Go to hell you son-of-a-bitch,” she would reply. The words “Goddamn,”
“son-of-a-bitch” and “shit” flowed as naturally out of Gram’s mouth as they
might out of a truck driver’s. (They
still do). There was just an emphasis
and loudness added to them when arguing with Pap, which was often. Perhaps the funniest part of their arguments
was when one or the other didn’t hear what was said and would go off screaming and
ranting about what they thought they
heard, only to get even angrier when they found out they were screaming at the
other about something that wasn’t even said.
When Pap became bedridden and would remain that way the last 10 years of
his life, the words, “I’ll kill you, you son-of-a-bitch,” could often be heard
coming out of Gram’s mouth as she catered to his every need and cared for him
around the clock – even though in many ways, he was perfectly capable of doing
for himself. His general laziness,
constant demands and disregard for her needs would get her fuming. Once, when he was trying to manipulate her in
his usual way -by saying he wished he would die- she surprised him. “I wish I would just die," he whined. “Me too!” she snapped. She didn’t mean it; at least I don’t think
she did. Another time, she got so frustrated;
she grabbed the pillow and held it over his face as if she was going to smother
him. He really was a piece of work.
Nonetheless, throughout their marriage and despite their
bickering, Gram took her wedding vows very seriously. “In sickness” was underscored in Gram’s
marriage. Pap was often sick and as much
as she may have hated it at times, Gram was devoted and always there taking
care of him. During the many, many times
he was hospitalized at St. Francis hospital, Gram, who never got a driver’s
license, would find her way to the hospital by bus or whatever to be by his
side. Often she was getting a bus there
after working a long day herself. She
would sit religiously at that hospital until visiting hours were over. Even though the time was spent bickering, she
was there. It’s doubtful to me that Pap
would have done the same had the situation been reversed. The night Pap died, he did so shortly after
Gram had left, which was a few minutes before visiting hours were over. When I
got the call and hunted her down to tell her of his passing, she responding
immediately by saying, “I should have stayed.
I shouldn't have left early.”
We used to joke with Gram that she was keeping Pap alive so
she could keep his pension coming. There
may have been some truth to that, since Pap, who had a very nice pension from
his job, chose to take the entire distribution while he was alive rather than leave
a portion for Gram to receive after his death.
“I’m taking everything I can get while I’m alive,” he used to say. Gram’s income was cut in half when Pap died.
Gram told me once that if things were, back then, like they
were today, she would have divorced Pap.
I wonder.
Even today, Gram will sometimes say, "I have to get home. Daddy's gonna be mad if I don't make supper." (She often referred to Pap as 'Daddy'). She was an old school wife who took that role very seriously.
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