Hoo Boy

When it comes to my grandmother I am nearly always at a loss. My very dry sense of humor has never quite hit her the right way. The only way I had figured out how to speak to her was through books. She loved all the history books I gave her. Of course we could never discuss them because then she would say something like "I wish all black people thought that way." She could love all the same things I loved and still we disagreed on the overall perception of a race of people.

Now I've lost that way to communicate with her. Her memory is such that the ability to concentrate on a book is no longer possible. So I'm left wondering if there is a way to express my concern for her well being in a way she won't take offense. I tried sending her a birthday card that reminded her of all the people she had been a good friend to and had no response. At the moment she read it she may have loved the words, but her memory can't hold onto them. Her memory is full of the pain of being 89 and of all the people she's ever been angry with. It makes me sad to think that she is no longer the woman people would call in a crisis for comfort. She is now the woman people feel bad avoiding. I am the worst culprit.

Tomorrow I will regain my sense of humor about some of the things that happened this last weekend. But tonight I'm going to mourn the woman she was.