Behind the Clouds

We see her in glimpses, like the moon on a cloudy night. She peeks through here and there, shining her light for us, and then she slips away again, behind the clouds.

My Nannie has Alzheimer’s.

I went back home to visit her this week. I took her for ice cream at the wharf; she got Moose Tracks, one of her favourite kinds, I could tell she enjoyed it, enjoyed spending time with me.

Sometimes I wonder…

I know that she remembers me - Sahara, her oldest granddaughter, but I’m not always sure if she knows that I am her. I’m not always sure if she knows that the woman sitting beside her on the porch swing is Sahara, that the voice on the other end of the phone is Sahara.

It’s become increasingly harder for me to be around her, or even to talk to her. I know it’s because I’m afraid, afraid of the day that I am sure she doesn’t know I’m Sahara. Or worse, the day that she doesn’t remember who Sahara is at all.

I feel like if I keep my distance, maybe I can keep that day from coming. I know that’s not how it works though; I know that day will come no matter how I try to stave it off. I know I should be taking advantage of the time I have left with her as she is.

When I think back over the last decade or so and I think of all the times I rushed her off the phone or the times she’s invited me for coffee with her and I didn’t go, I’m overcome with regret. I’m mad at myself for not spending more time with her, for not taking advantage of those moments when I had them so readily available to me. I’m mad at myself for continuing to do it now.

I did the very same thing with my Papa when his cancer got worse. I could have spent more time with him, but it was easier for me to keep my distance, pretend there was more time. I know now that all I did was steal what time I had left with him from myself, I made myself lose him sooner…

She’s already gone, in a way. She isn’t the Nannie I’ve known and loved all my life, not all the time, but I know she’s still in there, hiding behind the clouds. I’ll keep looking, waiting and catching glimpses here and there.

“I see the moon and the moon sees me,

Under the shade of the old oak tree,

Oh, let the light that shines on me,

Shine on the one I love.

Over the mountains and over the sea,

Back where my heart is longing to be,

Oh, let the light that shines on me,

Shine on the one I love.”

*Above is a lullaby my Nannie used to sing to me.