I went to see my grandmother today, and I must say that it was quite trying.
You see, she has bouts with Dementia, and that- coupled with Alzheimer's can make for an interesting/embarrassing/confusing/upsetting visit.
While hanging with her in the television area of her retirement facility,
(A top-notch one, I must say. It really is very nice. They have an immaculate Baby Grand piano in the sitting room for God sakes!)
she and I sat and conversed about her upcoming birthday, and various other subjects considered small-talk.
Then I HAD to bring up my grandfather's grandfather.
That's about when the fun began.
Y'see, I am not aware of any family history beyond my great-grandfather.
As far as I know, there was a terrible tragedy that befell his parents and some of his siblings by the hands of others.
I only know bits of what really happened, but I am aware of the gist.
To make matters even more complicated, my great-grandfather's history is pretty spotty as well.
So you can understand why I asked my grandmother about who he was.
Well, I guess today wasn't the day to ask. Immediately after I asked, she shouted my grandfather's-her husband's name.
Immediately after that, she asked where he was. I realized that at that point in time she was unaware that he is, and has been deceased for quite some time. I saw that outburst as a reason to diffuse the situation. I said to her, "well, granddad isn't here grandma. He passed away a while ago." With that, she became upset with me. She looked at me like, Dumb Ass I KNOW my husband is dead, and then she mumbled something under the blanket she had pulled up to her nose. I know what she said couldn't have been too favorable, because she ended whatever her comment was with "shit"
Oops.
From that point, I spent the rest of my visit trying to get back in her good graces.
FAIL!
Nah, I wouldn't go that far. There were glimmers of joviality, but primarily when others came by to inquire as to who I was.
Seeing that the ship was going down, I decided to make my descent beneath the waves as pleasent as I could.
I convinced her to sing some of the oldies but goodies along with me.
We sang "Let me call you sweetheart", "Take me out to the ball game", "Yes we have no bananas", and "By the light of the silvery moon".
Well,
I sang the tunes, and grandma screamed them bloody murder style.
Maybe not that bad, but she was pretty damn loud.
Heh.
When each song concluded, she became inanimate after propping herself up against the arm of the chair opposite me, and to watched the Dr. Phil program.
I believe it was about online chat sites and the underage victims, and potential victims of sexual predators.

It is a sad day my friends when your visit to your grandmother is deemed less captivating than sexual deviants on the Dr. Phil show.

Realizing that the titanic had reached the ocean floor, I said my goodbyes, and told her that I planned to see her for her approaching birthday, and got up out of there.
I hated that my visit went that way, but hey, I guess you win some, you lose some right?
I make light of the situation, but I do so only to help cope with the fact that her situation is one that I can not fathom, and one that scares me beyond any other malady that I could be faced with.