My grandma has Alzheimer’s.

This is something we’ve been aware of for the last several years, but this weekend my grandpa decided it was time to have her live in the Alzheimer’s ward of their retirement home. Earlier this week he had an unscheduled procedure to put a pacemaker in and she kept getting angry that he didn’t tell her he had surgery scheduled.

My grandmother is a strong-willed woman.  She has been for as long as I can remember.

Although she has always had an attitude that’s reminded me of the “We Can Do It!” woman from WWII propaganda pictures, she’s also always had grace.

Even the last few times I’ve seen her when she’s obviously forgotten who one of the people she’s talking with is she has always managed to keep a polite composure that would help her continue the conversation as if the person were her lifelong friend.

The idea of my Gram coming to a point in her life where life will never again be fulfilling, but confusing and awkward breaks my heart.

She’s a good woman who has led a good life.

She’s instilled a sense of right, wrong, and decency in my mother and her siblings.

As she was being taken from her former home in the retirement home where Gramp still resides, she told the nurse during her walk “I know he still loves me because he married me instead of that other girl his mother wanted him to marry.”

My grandparents have been married 60-some years.  They’ve fought like cats and loved without reserve.

I hope some day my grandchildren will also say that they appreciate that my wife and I have made life better for each other like I know my grandparents have for each other.