A few weeks ago, I went to see my Gramma. She lives in a really depressing care center, but then again I guess they all are. It takes me a little over an hour to get there and I'm always reluctant to go because I get the feeling that most of the time, she doesn't remember who I am. She always knows that I belong to her, but she never seems to know quite how. You can almost see her fumbling with the pieces of the puzzle and not quite realizing how we all fit together. Dementia sucks.
Whenever I visit her I'm bombarded with questions about life, ethics, quality of life, all the things that make me love and hate being a nurse and being a member of a family. But, every time I go to see her, I try to beg my way into a visit with my Aunt and Uncle. They live near her care center and somehow I feel time slow down when I'm with them. I relax almost instantly when I'm around them. Even when I disagree with their political views or their take on current or historical events, I still feel accepted. Perhaps it's them, or perhaps it's that photosynthetic life is exploding all around their house... they have the most amazing gardens of anyone I know. I can't imagine being able to wake up to this every day... and this is just a piece of the view... Amazing.
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