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| ... the Lethbridge foothills and mountains of Grant's life ... |
Richard Johnson wrote:
Uncle Grant passed away just before the weekend began.
His passing is painful, and not celebrating his life with all of my family to me is a frightful thought.
Uncle Grant passed away just before the weekend began.
His passing is painful, and not celebrating his life with all of my family to me is a frightful thought.
This will be the first funeral where I won’t be embracing my loved ones to mourn the passing of a loved one. Grieving without hugs to me sounds unbearable.
Two thoughts that come to mind when thinking about Uncle Grant.
Of course, in recent years with his memory leaving him, we have all experienced Grant introducing himself to us. He would say “Hello, I’m Grant Johnson”. The last time that we met I replied “Hello Uncle Grant, I am Richard, Kelvin Johnson's son”.
Two thoughts that come to mind when thinking about Uncle Grant.
Of course, in recent years with his memory leaving him, we have all experienced Grant introducing himself to us. He would say “Hello, I’m Grant Johnson”. The last time that we met I replied “Hello Uncle Grant, I am Richard, Kelvin Johnson's son”.
I thought that my introduction with a mention about my father could help him make the link. A bit silly now that I think about it and of course it didn’t. Having elderly loved ones is a different experience that is not intuitive nor is it easy.
I talked with a friend about their father and how his final years were. He conveyed that with Alzheimer's the memories left, boundaries left, simple decorum and the social graces of how to interact with each other had disappeared. Foul language was revealed, unnecessarily raising voices happened, rudeness and meanness came. Still within was the father that they loved and the memories and history were powerful in helping to ignore this now vulgar eldar, and they cared and loved him until the last day and of course beyond.
But with Grants memory loss something else happened.
He was kind, he was thoughtful. He was genuine. He was loving and kind and true. People were drawn to him and he was a pleasure to be with.
It is such a happy memory for me. Will I be a rude, crass, curmudgeon when I’m laid bare? Will I be snide or boorish or nasty? Grant, being such a lovely person, even when the walls come down raises my spirits. It also makes me wonder how to prepare my very true self to be more like him.
If I could meet Grant again, and have him say “Hello, I”m Grant Johnson”, I would like that.
I talked with a friend about their father and how his final years were. He conveyed that with Alzheimer's the memories left, boundaries left, simple decorum and the social graces of how to interact with each other had disappeared. Foul language was revealed, unnecessarily raising voices happened, rudeness and meanness came. Still within was the father that they loved and the memories and history were powerful in helping to ignore this now vulgar eldar, and they cared and loved him until the last day and of course beyond.
But with Grants memory loss something else happened.
He was kind, he was thoughtful. He was genuine. He was loving and kind and true. People were drawn to him and he was a pleasure to be with.
It is such a happy memory for me. Will I be a rude, crass, curmudgeon when I’m laid bare? Will I be snide or boorish or nasty? Grant, being such a lovely person, even when the walls come down raises my spirits. It also makes me wonder how to prepare my very true self to be more like him.
If I could meet Grant again, and have him say “Hello, I”m Grant Johnson”, I would like that.
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| ... Goodbye, Grant. I am Kelvin's son, Richard ... |
If he introduced himself once, or twice, or for an hour or a day, I wouldn’t mind. over and over again, I would like that.
I would like to introduce myself to him one last time and enjoy the warmth of his true and honest self.
I would like that.
Richard Johnson
I wonder about this too (what will be the last parts of me that linger). So much joy in the interactions with him, and the repetitions of kindness.
ReplyDeleteRe the question, what will be the last part of me that linger? I am hoping that long after I have forgotten my own name and the names of my loved ones, that I will still remember my passwords.
ReplyDelete