Shufflin’

Grandma is worn out from the trip to the living room.

Grandma is worn out from the trip to the living room.

So just when I’m commenting on how Grandma’s not pushing herself anymore (see previous posts) this morning happens…

It’s Saturday morning.  I like to sleep in on Saturday mornings, though I’m not often successful.  Still, I try to stay in bed until at least 9am.  I treasure these weekend mornings for the uninterrupted laziness that is so rare in my life these days.

This morning I woke up at 7:45 because I heard something:

Shuffle.

Shuffle. ShuffleShuffleShuffle.  Shuffle.

“OK, Grandma’s heading to the bathroom”, I think.

SHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLE!

Shuffle. Shuffle.

SHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLESHUFFLE!

Shuffle.

Nope…that’s too many shuffles for a trip to the bathroom.  I wait, listening.  There’s no “crash” sound.  No noise at all.  “There’s no way she walked all the way out to the couch without her walker”, I thought “She hasn’t done that since she was sick”.  I tried to go back to sleep.

I tossed and turned for a few minutes.  Finally, my curiosity got the best of me, so I got up and went to the living room.  Sure enough, Grandma thought it was time to get up so she walked out to the couch.  No walker or canes in sight.  When I looked at her she was fast asleep on the couch.  She had worn herself out with the effort and essentially traded one bed for another.

I could worry about her falling down and chastise her for not using her walker, but that would just make her feel bad.   What I did instead is to quietly move her walker out next to the couch so if she wants it when she wakes up she can use it.  I’m not about to take away her feeling of independence, even if it means that I have to keep my own worry in check.

I am proud of the fact that 101 years old, Grandma is still pushing herself  and hope that if I live to be an old man I have the combination of grace and strength that I witness in her

A lot of my recent posts have dealt with my feelings and thoughts around Grandma’s decline.  When she asserts herself like this it reminds me that you don’t get to be 101 years old unless you have a lot of spirit.  I’m certain that Grandma walked out to the couch without her aids this morning to prove a point to me, but probably more importantly to herself.

“I am still here and I’m not done yet.”

.

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