the visit

I was at the hospital today visiting my 90 year old Grandmother who is in there with the diagnosis Failure to Thrive. I take the meaning of that to be," I don't want to fucking live anymore". I am a coward. I have put off visiting her for months because she has dementia  and possibly Alzheimer's, who the hell knows the difference, but I did not visit because I was afraid she would not remember me.
Everyone should have some person in their life who considers you perfect. My Grandparents are those people to me. No matter how I fuck up they consider me the Second Coming in the form of Grace Kelly. I tried to think of some modern day woman that everyone considers almost saintly and, sadly, I could not think of one person. Anyway, my Grandparents looked past my obvious flaws of bumbling alcoholic and drug addict, my getting knocked up prior to marriage,my not even attempting to finish college..should I go on? The point  is no matter how I behaved they interpreted it as perfection!
Today my Grandmother is not the person she was. She shakes a lot and cries, she knew me but not the year or that she was even in the hospital. Little signs of life showed when she clearly wanted to feed herself when the aid was feeding her. I notice the nurses referring to her as "sweetie" or "honey", words you would use to address a small child. And it is no wonder when she barely speaks and can do so little for herself. My Grandmother is a very private person and I sat there hoping she was not aware of what was going on. In the span of my visit she was treated extremely well but I was chafing at the indignity of her current condition.
When I came home I sat in our rocking chair petting my cat and feeling the solace of holding this animal and hearing him purr, knowing this was his way of showing contentment. As I sat there I was thinking of what her doctor told me about dementia. If I understand her right the depression my Grandmother has been having and the dementia go hand in hand. She told me that my Grandmother's MRI showed changes in the brain caused by the dementia. This young and pretty doctor told me that my Grandmother is incapable of processing emotions like others do. What ends up happening is an affect that is totally flat. She no longer can feel the range of emotions that other people go through on an everyday basis: anger, excitement, happiness and contentedness. I told her that I thought that was terribly sad and she agreed. What is life if not emotion? How terrible it would be to only feel confusion, fear and sadness, since, ironically, these horrible emotions seem to somehow get through.  I wonder if this young and vibrant doctor often wonders if her end will be similar to those of these elderly patients she cares for.
After I got in my car I plugged my Iphone in to my music. I suck at computers so even though I was miraculously able to download some songs they seem to come on randomly and never what I try to pick.The song that came on was, "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone". My only thought was, yep, how appropriate.
I know I have to accept this that this shell of a person is who she has become but I don't think this is God's will or any of that shit. I love my Grandmother and I cherish how she has always loved me. I am grateful she knew who I was today, maybe she will when I go back to see her again. I really hope so.