Thirtysomething

Bay Ridge

About two weeks ago, my parents moved the last of my grandmother's belongings out of the 3rd floor walk-up apartment where she lived for more than 35 years. Before that, she grew up and lived in an apartment just 5 doors down the street.

My family, at least on my mother's side, has lived in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn for generations, probably well over 100 years. My dad's family lived in Brooklyn too, but they moved there from New Hampshire to find work during the Depression. Everyone, eventually, and really starting with my grandmother's sisters, started moving out of Brooklyn. People wanted to own homes with grass and trees. My parents grew up in Brooklyn but eventually they too followed suit and moved to the suburbs. My grandmother was the sole relative left in Brooklyn and now she too has moved. Although she doesn't realize that yet.

I went to see Nana about two weeks ago and the good news is that she remembered me. Knew who I was right away. The bad news was that she thought it was 1921. When we got to the rehab center we found her at the nurses station trying to "check out" of the hotel. I find it endlessly fascinating that her mind has chosen to believe that she's on vacation. She thinks she's at a resort, and since a few weeks have now passed, she's beginning to get bored. Everyone at the center loves her, because she has such a pleasant personality and always has a smile for everyone. But she's beginning to "sundown" as they say and she gets testier at night. It's then that she wants to go home and see her cat. She asks constantly whether anyone has seen her mother, father and husband and where they might be. She's convinced that her cat is on the 25th floor of what is, in reality, a 1 story building. One day she couldn't figure out how to shut the TV in her room off before bed so she flipped it so it was face-down. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes it's not.

My mom says that over the last week, Nana's asked to her mother and father less and less and overall seems to be more "with it". I think my mom is terrified that she might start to remember too much and ask too many questions. Really, how do you explain to someone that they're no longer fit to live on their own and are confined to a nursing home?

The people that work at the rehab facility seem really nice. The place is really clean. They label all the patients' belonging with name tags which is endearing and heartbreaking at the same time. They're trying new medication on my grandmother to see if it'll help. They sit her on the toilet every two hours in an effort to potty train her. They play bingo, have birthday parties and watch "Wheel of Fortune."

And Bay Ridge is no more.

posted by DJ Heavy D @ 9:22 AM