(Note, the pictures in this post were not taken during the incident I am about to describe, but were taken during a previous visit. They are to be used for visual aid only, not as a depiction of the actual event. However, the woman pictured is really my grandma, and the boy is really the 18-year-old boy.)
No, she didn't die, but this weekend, the 18-year-old boy had to say good-bye to his grandma before leaving for his two-year mission. If you do the math, and you probably have, this could very well be their last good-bye. It was sad, but for those of you who know my grandma, she may have lost her mind, but she HAS NOT lost her wit.
When we come into the house where my grandma is cared for, she usually knows who my mother is, or sometimes she thinks she's her other daughter, but most of the time she doesn't recognize me and certainly doesn't recognize my children. She doesn't like this brought to her attention, though, so we just hug her and say hi grandma, and she figures it out. She is always absolutely thrilled to see us, and during this visit, she seemed to have more wits about her than usual. When my mother walked in and announced, "We've come to visit you for your birthday, Mom!", my grandma said dryly, "You're late." And we were, by four days.
Along for the visit were the 18-year-old boy, obviously, the 10-year-old boy, the 8-year-old girl, Baby Hippo, and my mother and I. I could tell you why the other kids didn't come, but that would take too long. Anyways, after visiting for a few minutes, I told her that the 18-year-old boy was going on a mission (of which all Mormon grandmas are very proud), and that she wouldn't be seeing him for two years. Upon hearing this, she immediately burst into tears, put her face in one hand, and cried, "Oh! I wish you wouldn't have told me that!"
The 18-year-old boy looked at me nervously, as he had never seen her cry, and I looked nervously back. Like a good boy, though, he put his hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her, and said, "But Grandma, don't be upset, I'll be serving The Lord."
She immediately stopped crying, pulled her hand away from her face, fluffed her hair with it, and said, "Well, tell Him hello for me."
I was already quite teared up about seeing her cry, but I immediately burst into tears of laughter upon hearing this, and the 18-year-old boy wasn't far behind.
During the course of the visit, which was about an hour long, every ten minutes or so she would place her hand on the 18-year-old boy's knee, smile, and say, "So, your going on a mission." We were glad she could remember back ten minutes. During one of her realizations, she looked into his eyes, and patting his knee in time to her words, said, "18-year-old boy, I am going to miss you every.... damn... day."
After we burst out laughing again, she said that damn wasn't a bad word, but that she wasn't going to say it again.
There were many more instances where we were ROFL (chat talk for rolling on the floor laughing), and as I said, more good times than bad during this difficult good-bye. I can only imagine how the 18-year-old boy must have felt as he hugged her for what will be the last time in two years, or much longer. It was a visit we won't soon forget. I love my grandma. :)
(Here she is with the 18-year-old boy, enraptured by his conversation, then comparing trigger fingers...)
Thanks for listening...