A Little Bit of a Breakdown.

Two and a half months ago, BS and I went to Southern California (SoCal) to visit family of mine who'd never met him. During that trip, we visited my father's paternal grandmother, my great grandmother, who is suffering from dementia. I hadn't seen her in years and while I knew she was sick, there was nothing that could prepare me for that.

The woman I remembered was vibrant and full of life. She went out dancing well into her 80's and would not stand for someone telling her what to do. She fed you every time you walked through her door, even if you had just come from a meal, and she made you feel at home. I remember the gentle hugs she'd give me and the way her hair was always perfectly done. The woman I remembered was strong willed and quite stubborn, extremely stereotypical of a Mexican matriarch...which she was.

As we drove to the facility where she currently lives, my grandfather warned me "She might not remember you. I'll have to get really close and remind her that you're RC's daughter. I just want you to be prepared, some days are better than others." I nodded and thought to myself "I can handle this. It's your great grandmother, you love her. Being able to visit her is a fantastic opportunity. Having BS with me will help keep me strong. I can do this." But in NO way was I ready...

Her room was directly across from the automatic doors in the entry way. My grandpa lead the way, followed by my grandma, then me, then BS. As we walked into the room, and I saw my great grandmother lying in the hospital bed, I felt a surge of emotion. "She doesn't look ill," I though to myself as my grandfather leaned in to wake her. But ill she is.

We spent an hour with her, after she woke from her nap, feeding her lunch and attempting to understand the random gibberish she was speaking. This woman, who used to force feed me beans and rice with homemade tortillas, couldn't even feed herself. She was frail and weak, unable to brush her own hair. She seemed dazed and confused, blankly staring at me as if we'd never met before. She was seeing things that weren't there; picking up small, non-existant pieces of garbage from her lunch tray and holding them in her hand. My heart broke. She didn't remember me; she barely remembered her own son. This was a shell of the woman I spent my childhood admiring. I walked away from that hospital sobbing, gasping for air.

I remember every single detail of that day. I remember how vacant and far away she seemed, as well as the little things that reminded me that my great grandma was still in there [Like when she was having difficulty trying to pick up a piece of cornbread with a spoon and I told her "Grandma, you can't eat cornbread with a spoon." She glared at me as she got that cornbread on the spoon and never took her eyes away from me as she took a bite, as if to say "Don't tell me I can't."] But there are 2 things I will absolutely never forget for the rest of my life: 1. Out of all of the nonesense she spoke all day - incomplete sentences, inappropriate answers to questions, etc. - she managed to get one, full and complete thought out. It had nothing to do with anything, but I will cherish it forever. She said, "Think twice before buying a new pair of shoes." 2. As we were getting ready to leave, my grandpa encouraged me to get close and hug her. As I stepped up to her wheel chair, she began fixing my dress, attempting to tuck it in to itself. I bent down and gave her a hug and as I stood back up, she grabbed my hand. She held it for a moment before kissing it ever so gently and then patting it.

Needless to say, I completely lost it and had to nearly be carried out of the hospital. I was so thankful to have BS there to hold me while I cried, and it meant even more to me that he was able to meet her, even just once.

Recently, I went through my storage unit to make room/organize things. I came across an envelope that I was about to throw away. I didn't recognize the handwriting, and tossed it into a box to be looked at later. As I was going through that box at home last week, I opened the letter to find it was from my Great Grandma, written in response to an out-of-the-blue letter I'd sent her back in 2004. In it, she wrote how much she missed my family and me and how she hoped we would come visit her that summer. I realized, as I started to bawl my eyes out, that I hadn't revisited the situation since I'd seen her over two months ago. I cried for hours, non-stop. I cried while changing and folding laundry, I cried while showering, I cried while watching tv and I cried up until the instant I fell asleep that night. The next day, I was emotionally sensitive and touchy, but it felt good to cry for her. It felt good to remember her strength and it reminded me how precious life is.

If there's anything I can get across to my readers today, it's that life is short. My little breakdown last week reminded me that I need to make time for the people who matter most because I don't want to be left wishing for more time. Time flies by whether you're having fun or not, so you'd better make the most of it. <3