My Grandpa--- memories

I am fortunate to have known all 4 Grandparents for my lifetime. I am one of the few who can say my Grandparents are as close to me as my own parents. I'm almost 30 years old and I have 3 out of the 4 still living.

My Grandpa has alheizheimers. This strong man who gives the biggest bear hugs is changing. He could fix anything and regularly did so- for his own family and then friends and friends of friends. He worked for the gas company and spent much of his career working nights in the ghetto. Always being a tough, muscular man with the biggest hands known to man--- he could protect himself. One particular call he answered in the middle of the night proved dangerous. He entered a house at 2 AM only to have the door swing shut behind him. He was surrounded by 4 burly ghetto guys. They circled in towards him. He dropped his tool bag, which served as a distraction. In the blink of an eye- he took 2 guys- one in each hand and cluncked their heads together. They were knocked out, laying on the floor. He punched the 3rd guy in the throat- down he went. The last "tough" guy stood there trembling. "What'll it be," my Grandpa asked. "I don't mean no trouble, man" the guy stammered. My Grandpa left. Word got around quickly in the inner city about my Granpda. He was a guy that would give the shirt off his back to the people who lived there; often fixing extra things for free. They also knew not to mess with him. Other guys from the gas company tried to work in the ghetto; each one resulting in numerous trips to the hospital. But, not my Grandpa- he was strong, respectable and did his best for the people there. That's just how he is.

My husband and I went over to my grandparent's house last night for pizza. My Grandpa talks and smiles but there is a distance in his eyes. He can't remember. He can't very well follow a conversation anymore. The disease has changed his personality, his mannerisms and a stranger has taken over his mind and body. The one thing unchanged- his big hands, still covered in callouses. The way he wraps me up in a big bear hug and still calls me his "#1 baby". "You're still my baby, you know," he'll say, "no matter how old you get". I smile and say, "I know Granpda, I know".

I can't help but wonder when he'll forget that I'm his baby. When will he forget that he likes to give bear hugs. When he'll stop carrying around a piece of blonde hair of my Grandma's from when she was 18 in his wallet. When he'll stop praying daily for his family. He use to pray for everyone by name- but he can't remember all the names.

I still have pieces of my Grandpa that alheizheimers has not yet taken. I hold onto those snippets tightly, never knowing when they will be gone- permanetly. I'm thankful for each and every day with him. The times I talk to him- I know he won't remember in an hour. But I've learned an important thing- to live in the moment. For in that moment that he hugs me tight, it brings joy to him. The things I tell him brings laughter, in that minute. Seeing a smile come to his face, living in real time is worth it. Though he can't remember- I do. And those current times will be memories that will stay with me always. It's not just about him- it's about me.... having my Granpda now. Enjoying him in "the now". Knowing it's change- but thankful for each and every day with him.