see you in the a.m.

"weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

-Psalm 30:5

No night lasts forever; the start of each new day brings a sense of hope and renewal. My nights are so often filled with a plethora of emotions and thoughts; sadness, fear, anxiety, guilt, humility, anger, hope. It's hard to keep track of everything I'm feeling and stay sane. I try and check in with myself often and reflect. I analyze my thoughts and behaviors and truly try to better myself for tomorrow. The days are so long and the moments before bed can be physically draining, but I'm comforted by the fact that each morning I wake up with the the ability and strength to keep moving forward.

I can't believe it's been 11 weeks. 11 weeks since this 34 year old had her 88 year old grandmother and 90 year old grandfather move in. Grampy's kidneys are slowly failing, he has congestive heart failure, and diabetes. I know he hates being taken care of and I'm trying to be sympathetic to his attempts at trying to control anything and everything he can.

As for my Grammy, she's perfect. I roll my eyes at her and walk in the other room to scream silently and text my mom about how it's constant monitoring and supervision, but she's perfect. She isn't asking to go home as much, but it doesn't get any easier when she does. Today she "packed" all of her things. She walked upstairs and put her nightgown and denture cup on the bed. I guess that's all she needed. She soon forgets, though, and is becoming more familiar with our nighttime routine. It's my favorite time with her. Not because I know I'll finally get a chance to lay down and be alone physically and emotionally, but because she is so vulnerable and pure and genuine. It's interesting that Alzheimer's is synonymous with forgetting, because there is so much more to it. Like the obsessive compulsive behavior and the perseverating on topics and routines. When I say every night, I mean every night.. the same timeline, the same words and phrases, the same movements and behaviors. Around 6:00 every night, she says she's about ready to bring her old body up to bed. I turn off all the lights and hold her hand as we walk to the stairs. Then she grabs on to the bannister with everything she has and hauls her ass up to the bedroom. Thank God she's little because I don't think that railing can take much more. I'm not sure what we'll do when she rips it off the wall. I guess that's why I walk beside her. When we get to the top of the stairs she always says she's a little heavy in the rear end and then asks which room she's going to. I point her in the right direction and she tells me how excited she is to crawl into bed. She doesn't know that I lay out her pajamas hours before so that she doesn't have to ask where they are. I sneak up to her room mid-day and close the blinds, pull her sheets down, and choose her clothes for the next day. I always ask cautiously if she wants my help putting her pajamas on and she always accepts. I never want her to feel uncomfortable or ashamed in any way. She shuffles her way to the bed and then reaches out her arms to me. Straight at me. I'm not a hugger, but I wrap my arms around her every night and tell her I love her. She says, "thanks for everything." I pull the covers up for her and tell her to sleep tight and to yell if she needs me. The last thing she says is my favorite part: "see you in the a.m." I respond, "see you in the a.m." I don't know what it is. At first I thought it was silly and funny, especially when she said it to my grandfather. Now I can't live without it. It reminds me that tomorrow is a new day and another chance for us to be together.

She's up literally every hour. She goes to the bathroom then walks back to bed. I'm getting better at ignoring it. Sometimes she opens my door and yells "wrong room!" Sometimes I ask if she wants to cuddle and she says things like, "careful what you wish for!" or "only if you have a fellow with you."

She makes me laugh. I have to keep reminding myself of that for all of the times she makes me want to scream or run away. She loves folding laundry. I try to wash my clothes as much as humanly possible just so she has a chance to fold. Then I sit and watch her hold up my clothes and ask if I have a secret man living in the basement. Nope, those are just my tie dye shirts, gram, but thanks. Instant confidence booster. She loves when I swear, too. She thinks it's absolutely hilarious and so do I, so it's a win-win.

My mom and I give her a thorough shower every Saturday morning. When she steps out of the tub she always tells me not to take a picture. Then I wrap a towel around her head and hold it at her chin and say "Please, sir, I want some more." Every time. She lives for it. I do, too. That joke kills week after week and I don't have to think of any new material. When we walk to the bedroom she tells me that I'm lucky I'm young, but I tell her I can't wait til someone is washing my body for me. She laughs.

I love laughing with her. She seems so young and child-like and care-free. I guess I need to start swearing more.

I think I'll start decorating for Christmas. Gram thinks it's summer so it doesn't really matter, does it? It makes me happy and I think it will make her happy, too. I hope the roomie Christmas cards I'm making will also make her happy.

see you in the a.m.

Tayla