Grandma

I was talking to my mother yesterday and she kept saying, "I'm sorry it was so hard for you with Grandma."

I said to her, "It wasn't hard for me at all; it was hard for Grandma."

Is it easy to be with a human who is so confused? No. And I admit that it was hard not to get annoyed by the constant questions. But at the end of the day, I know where I am and how I got here. I'm not constantly looking for my keys, my coat or my purse. I'm not waking up in the middle of the night to look for my car.

All I did is spend three hours on a Saturday afternoon with a nice, albeit confused, old lady.

It's very hard for my mother, who has taken both Grandma and No-legs in. My mother can be a real so-and-so sometimes, but she sure does have the courage of her convictions. She decided that she didn't want her parents in a nursing home and she rearranged her life so that they wouldn't be.

It's also hard for my sister who is filling in for my mother while my mother is taking a much needed vacation.

But it's hardest of all, by far, for Grandma, who constantly is trying to figure out what she's doing here and why and can't seem to figure it out for more than a few minutes.