Demented Updates
Grandpa had a fit today.
His storage pavilion has become a mess (once again) because my sister moved some of her stuff in and failed to move it out when she got her own place. For weeks, toys have been scattered about, making for an unsightly eye-sore of a hurricane disaster. I get why he was mad. I do everything I can to try to make this place look beautiful and alive, but it is almost unmanageable with a work schedule to keep up with everything. The same is true for my sister. She works five days a week and has just settled in, so her priority has not been on the items she left on the pavilion.
Grandpa was not just mad about the mess, though. In his fit of rage, he revealed some of his truest, deepest underlying feelings. “This is my house!” he exclaimed to my mother. “Mine and Margies and nobody else’s!” When Grandma and Grandpa die, mom gets the house. My mom actually helped design the blueprint to this house. She, in fact, was the first owner of this house. And to get very technical, Grandma is now sole owner of the house because her and Grandpa divorced one time and got remarried and she kept the house. Grandpa is scared of losing his things, his space, his tools, all that he built. So, he took it out on my mom in the form of anger, for which he immediately felt bad about.
Dementia is a hell of a condition. We don’t even understand the degree to which it is affecting all of us. It feels like living in that movie 50 First Dates, only less charming. Grandpa has to be reminded what day of the week it is. I used to reflect his anger back to him, and yesterday I felt it rising, but something else in me laughed. Sometimes you have to even if it doesn’t feel like the most helpful response. There are times you can do nothing but try to see the silver lining. Grandpa was acting like a child having a temper tantrum. He’s threatened many times to pull up our very foundation, but ultimately he has no power to do so. He does this because he is facing demons everyday. Demens, huh…
Instead of taking it to heart, I’ve learned to take it in strides. Not provoking my grandpa felt like a win. I could have said “You’re almost dead so chill out” or something worse and more facetious. Instead, I walked to my mom and asked what I could do to help clean up. I didn’t do it for brownie points. In fact, I had it written in my planner to clean the pavilion. Last time I did, there was an obvious improvement in Grandpa’s mood. Cleaning up a space can do that for people. Its why cleaning up your room is a good idea. It helps us to sense into a feeling of things being orderly and in their place. To include my grandpa’s bad attitude. I needed to see myself witness that without reacting.
