A Visit With My Mom-Mom
A Visit With My Mom-Mom
A creative non-fiction piece for Farrah Storr's "The Writer's Room"
If you’ve found this, then I know you’ve been sneaking around through the archive. This piece was published as part of a writer’s group challenge but never sent out as an email. One of the tenets of going “Back to Our Roots” is embracing our interests and the things that bring us joy, shy of judgments from others. Writing is one of the things that I love to do and hope to improve in.
I share this with you here in the hope to encourage you to follow your passions and invest in yourself. Also, going “back to our roots” is about community and connecting on a deeper level. This piece will give you insight into my childhood, the people that are important to me, and the challenges in my own life.
Now that I live in Arizona, away from my family who is on the East Coast, it has become even more important for me to keep them updated on my life. Either by making a phone call, sending a text, or mailing a postcard.
Every few weeks, I’ll text my pop-pop pictures to update him on the excitement of my life. In all caps he texts back, “Looks like you’re having a GOOD TIME!!”.
Sometimes I’ll call because it’s always good to hear his voice and I know it makes his day to live vicariously through my adventures. At the end of the call, he’ll hand the phone over to my mom-mom, screaming “IT’S MADISON. YOUR GRAND-DAUGHTER. SHE WANTS TO SAY HI.”
“Hi, mom-mom I say! How are you?”.
“I’m good, I’m good. When are you coming to visit?”.
“Soon,” I say.
Finally, the summer comes and I’m back on the East Coast, close to all of my family in New Jersey. I had just spent the past weekend with my mom, aunt, and mom-mom but I’m driving by my grandparents’ house, so I stop in to say hi.
I walk through the front door, seeing my mom-mom peering out the window, carrying her little golden robo-dog named Sweetie. She’s always patrolling the cars pulling into the driveway, staring into the eyes of whoever walks up to the garage door.
“Hi, mom-mom! It’s great to see you!”, I say, a little skeptical of what will happen next. She looks at me, a bit confused like she’s calculating numbers in her head. She’s looking at me but also through me.
“Great to see you!” she says. “Where have you been?”.
I tell her I’ve been out in Arizona where I now live with my boyfriend and two dogs. “Oh wow! I haven’t seen you in ages!”. Even though I just saw her the past weekend.
“Do you have a boyfriend yet?” she asks.
“Yes, I do. Sebastian, you’ve met him”.
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in a month.”
“I just saw you last week mom-mom”.
“Do you have water for my dog?”
“Your dog is a robot, he doesn’t need water”.
We sit on the couch together, family feud blaring on the television screen. My grandparents have a beautiful lake right outside their house with an expansive beach and towering trees. It’s quite beautiful. But, instead, we stay inside in the dark living room, plastered in front of the TV.
When I ask if she wants to go outside, she gets scared. She doesn’t want her dog to drown in the water. She’s scared of what will happen to the children out there if she sits watching outside by the lake.
My mom-mom has Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t recognize me anymore or know who I am. But deep down I know she still loves me and is happy to see me, even if she can’t pinpoint the role I played in her 73 years of life.
My mom-mom was once vibrant, the star of the party. She would talk to anyone and everyone, always making the most uncomfortable person in the room feel welcome. Always a vodka, splash of water, no fruit in her hand.
I used to spend a month every summer at my grandparents’ house, attending summer camp. She would pack my lunch full of ten different types of snacks. Sometimes two of the same thing. The Little Bites Blueberry Muffins were my favorite- I would always request two bags of those. If I requested two, she’d usually give me three.
I always rode my bike to camp with my older cousin Abby. But, I always knew my mom-mom followed slowly behind us in her car, checking to make sure we got there safe. Sometimes I would see her big black SUV hidden behind trees during my lunchtime, checking on me to make sure I was having fun.
When I got home, we’d swim outside some more. Or we’d go to the craft store for me to pick out a new project. She always supported me in whatever I wanted to make, whether it was a collage from various fashion magazines or handmade jewelry that I was trying to copy from some designer I admired.
My mom-mom even let me help her with her work, counting headset covers to package for the family business. A little entrepreneur in the making! She was always so proud of me when I told her about my first big girl job out of college. Although she was starting to lose her memory then, she would always remember my new job and brag about my success to others.
I wish I could tell her how much of an influence she’s had on me. How much I appreciate her supporting my creativity and goals. For letting me help out with the business, priming me to have my own business someday, and for teaching me how to make everyone feel welcome and loved.
She still talks with the same gusto, confident in everything that comes out of her mouth. She may not make much sense anymore, but glimmers of her personality come out.
I still remember one night when we were in the Bahamas with all of my cousins and my mom-mom. We were sitting on the couch after a long dinner and some dancing at the hotel’s Club Dragons. We were laughing, my mom-mom forgetting some things and saying she was seeing things. At the time I thought it was the vodka, but now I always wonder if that was some of the first glimpses of her Alzheimer’s setting in.
When we are out having dinner together, and she says something sassy or makes a funny joke, these are the moments I wish I could bottle up and relive. They take me back to a time when my mom-mom was fully there, always telling jokes, always giving my pop-pop a run for his money.
These small moments you may miss if you don’t look for them. But I always look for them when I’m with her, appreciating them for what they are. They remind me of my real mom-mom and the memories we shared.
If you also have a loved one affected by Alzheimer’s Disease, I would love for you to make a donation to the Alzheimer’s Research and Prevention Foundation, an organization focusing on Integrative Medicine Research.
Madison