The Song of Love

Her hands have been knobby and wrinkled the entire time I have known her and her hair was grey when we first met. She has known me since the day that I was born and I know she has loved me for that length of time.

I remember calling my grandma in the middle of the night when my mom was too drunk to take care of me. I remember her coming to get me and I remember her telling me that it was going to be okay. I remember my mom dropping me off every morning and my grandma would make me breakfast and take me to school.

She indulged my every whim. She served me Corn Pops for weeks on end and then bread with brown sugar when I was on to that. She walked me in to my first day of middle school and she recorded the Justin Timberlake concert.

My grandma let me carry around her plastic Jesus for a year, and she was proud that I called him Jesus Masias. She piled stuffed animals around me when I wanted to play nativity in her living room. She never once yelled at me for leaving her phone off the hook when I wanted to call "cockanock." I am pretty sure that she even prepared meals for my imaginary brothers from time to time.

My grandma later took me shopping for hours on end. She kept me company when my mom got sober and was too busy staying that way to spend time with me. My grandma supported me every time my interests changed. She never condemned me for being flaky.  When I changed my major for the fifth time, she smiled and asked me when I would graduate.

My grandma has loved me unconditionally since the moment I was born. She has always been the most supportive member of my team. My grandmother never doubted me. She always knew what I was capable of and she was always clear about her beliefs and expectations for me.

Now, her hands are still wrinkled. Her knuckles are knobbly and her hair lays flat. My grandma sometimes doesn't remember who I am. She barely knows my kids. She doesn't remember that I was married and she doesn't understand that I don't live nearby anymore. My grandma has Alzheimer's disease.

She sits at her table for hours on end, looking at the answers to crossword puzzles and filling them in. She has a nurse who takes care of her. My mom takes her to and from appointments. My grandma doesn't live in her own body any more. Every day, she slips further and further away.

But some things have not changed. My grandma lights up when I walk into the room. She tells me that I am beautiful and she tells me that she loves me. My grandma asks me about my day and she asks me about my life. And once, recently, my grandma remembered my favorite lullaby and she sang it to me. I sing that lullaby to my children. That lullaby to me is pure love.

The song of love is a sad song,

My grandma's life is the song of love. My grandma is love. I cannot think of lullabies without thinking of my grandma.