I went to see Grandmother today. She did not know me. I knew this would happen eventually, but it was still disconcerting. I have to look at it like this: She cared for me, both physically and emotionally, long before I knew her as her. And I can do the same for her.

I wrote some words yesterday, and I suppose I’ll share them here with you now, lest you think I am placid, and accepting and calm.

Ya’ll please forgive me. I need an audience, and this is just too raw to put on my blogs. Maybe I’ll put it out there tomorrow, but for now, I have to talk to my “therapist” (that’s ya’ll). You may have read where I posted that my Grandmother has this Organic Brain Syndrome thing. It means her brain is atrophy-ing.

I am so hurt, and I am so angry. This will take my Grandmother from me millimeter by freaking millimeter until all that is left is the body my real Grandmother used to live in. This is not fair. This stinking sucks. And I hate, hate, hate. this. thing.

I just want to throw something. But I don’t know if that’s the small-child-having-a-tantrum kind of throw, or the baseball-lobbed-into-heaven-to-get-God’s-attention kind of throw.

Can I just say this has been one of the two worst months of my life? Only one time before in my life have I felt so used up, washed up, wanna hang it up defeated.

I did more research last night. Some sites say that Organic Brain Syndrome is an alternate name for Alzheimer’s. Talking to Mama about it today, we decided that it really doesn’t matter what we call it, the effect is the same. The name means nothing, and the effects mean everything. My Grandmother does not know me.

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