i didn't realize how bad my grandfather's death would effect me until it actually happened. he's been dead for awhile now. alzheimer's has destroyed his brain. he's not the man i grew up knowing...i'm sorry, he WASN'T the man i grew up knowing. he didn't know who he was, he didn't know what was being said to him. pain was all he inflicted on those around him...pain and false hope. my grandmother would take solace in him smiling when she said 'i love you' something that was clearing completely coincidental.
the first time i realized that he was sick was when he reprimanded my brother and i for something completely mundane. he sent us to the room we were staying in at my grandparent's house to "think about our actions" at some point i got fed up with it all and came out expecting to apologize but he had no recollection of what had occurred. i sometimes wonder if i had told someone about this had the following disintegration into nothingness had happened? it still would have. ten years ago there was no concept of treatment for alzheimer's...it wasn't understood. the drugs i now see advertised on tv to treat this sick disease were just in their testing stages. at the time i faulted my grandmother for not putting my grandfather through everything possible to try and cure his disease but now i know that she risked losing everything.
how could anyone expect you to make that decision? risking the love of your life's life for their memory? though no one seems to realize how much of an impact memory has on your life.
i try not to voice the fact that i think my grandfather is better off dead. the average person doesn't seem to understand. on the other hand anyone that has been close to someone with this evil disease seems to fully grasp that idea and often times voices it themselves. it's horrible and it hurts but i can't help to focus more on the fact that my loving grandmother will most likely be dead within the year.