The Sparkle in Her Eyes

BillieJoe - Nana to Many

It is hard to remember a time when she wasn't living her best life. Vibrant, alive, full of energy, laughter, singing, story telling, dancing and making sure that anyone around her was fed, loved and cared for are the memories of everyone who knows BillieJoe.  To me she has always been Nana.

In the summer time she would take a bus or train out to San Diego, CA from Kansas, load my sister and me on it, always after buying us some fun toy or paper doll or special item that we could play with, and take us home to spend time with her and my Gammie (her momma) on the farm.  My sister and I felt loved and special. She would kiss our necks and tell us how much she loved us. She would sing us songs; "I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck...".

We chased fireflies, ran wild outside, sat and listened to fun stories from the two of them, visited with cousins we hadn't seen in a long while and just enjoyed the freedom of being kids. BillieJoe (nana), my grandpa's sister and my aunt treated us like princesses. We were special to her and we knew it. She always had a twinkle in her eyes, a special sparkle that shone when she looked at us and smiled.

She loved people unconditionally, did not put up with any sassing, kept us all in our place but in a way that we knew it was out of love. She always made sure that her time spent with you was the most important time in her world. She cared deeply. She was/is amazing.

It has been years since I have had the chance to see her. On my last visit I noticed that her memory was starting to decline. She knew me, spoke my name, shared stories and was happy to see me but at times she asked me who I was again, and I would explain and she would smile.  Her thoughts looped and the stories she shared were the same but it didn't matter. She was still nana.

As her memory started to decline it became clear that it wasn't from age. It progressed rapidly, starting with the things I mentioned and moving to the final stages where round the clock care is a must. She turned 92 on May 3rd and her body is as healthy as ever. The only problem is her memory. The Alzheimer's that had started to eat away at her years ago is now in its final stages.

Seeing her like this is hard on those who love her. This vibrant and alive woman is no longer the same. Her eyes still sparkle, just a little but it's there nonetheless. She still smiles, although it takes more effort to make it happen. She is ornery, stubborn and cantankerous, all of which are not surprising as she was this person as well in her youth.  She was strong, determined, driven, motivated and made magic happen. Her emotions come and go quickly, changing and evolving and then fading.

For some, the pain of not having her remember is more than they can accept. So they no longer visit, afraid of what they will find.  For people, such as her daughter Brenda Joe, she is still momma, loved and cherished. Happy to just be with her. Happy to spend time talking to her and agreeing with her, even when she isn't making a whole lot of sense.

And while Brenda Joe may want to kill me for posting this picture, because as time progresses we all age and she hates that her wrinkles are showing, I find it one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. In it is the love a daughter has for her mother. Holding her hand and smiling while listening to her momma tell a story about the baby that she is holding. Smiling and happy because today, this day, was a good day, where her momma was there with her, talking and smiling and sparkling and alive.

Nana didn't remember her name, or mine or my mom's but she did remember that she loved us. Her eyes sparkled and lit up from the inside when we walked up to her. She smiled. She talked. Not about anything that made sense, other than her feet hurting, but talked none the less. She demonstrated that she loves. She showed us that while looking at her baby and even when looking at us at times.

Dealing with Alzheimer's can be heartbreaking for sure. But not taking the time to go and visit, sit and listen and smile and laugh can be worse. One thing to remember in life is that there is no guarantee of time. So if you have to take a plane, train and/or automobile to get to the one you love I say do it. 10 minutes is 10 minutes more with that amazing person you love.

And if you ask anyone who no longer has the ability to spend 10 more minutes because their loved one has gone, you will find that they would give anything to have 10 more minutes once again. So live life to the fullest. Enjoy every moment you may get. Don't let the loss take away the joy you find in just sitting there smiling with them. Remind them that they are loved, cherished and appreciated. Remind them that you care because even if they won't remember, you will.