“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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