Elizabeth Julia

    When we pack up "To Go" food orders at work, we are supposed to write what food item it is and the date on the outside of the container.  I did that several times today and, as I did so, I remembered today was my Grandma Ritter's birthday. I am glad I remembered. She was a cool lady and a good grandmother and I have so many fond memories of her. She was born November 15, 1904 in Mandan, North Dakota and she lived the longest of any of my grandparents. Sadly, she had Alzheimer's the last 10 years of her life. When my oldest son, who is now 27 years old, was a relatively new baby, I took him to visit her at New Harmony Care Center on Geranium in St. Paul, Minnesota. That was the first place she lived when it was determined she could no longer remain at home. It was, literally, blocks away from my Grandparents' home at 83 Atwater St. I would imagine that the close proximity to their home was why they started there. Also, maybe and especially when you are sending a loved one to one of those for the first time, you want the place to at least seem familiar especially for the spouse who is still sane. It must be so hard to make that decision for someone you love and have spent a lifetime with.
     I don't think she knew who I was anymore. I seem to remember that but she was still relatively mobile and spent most of her waking hours sitting upright in a wheelchair. I wish she could have known who I was. Maybe, she did. She just couldn't articulate that anymore but she did make eye contact still when I talked to her.
     She might not have known who I was anymore and she, maybe, didn't understand when I explained I had brought my newborn son to see her but she loved seeing him. She was sitting in her wheelchair at a table that was at about waist level. I gave my son to her and let her hold him which I suppose was risky but I did it anyway. Maybe, I knew she would be careful and gentle. I remember she was both.
     She took my son and put him carefully on the table. He was swaddled up tightly as newborns often are. I remember her as a somewhat slow and methodical person in her approach to tasks. She slowly unwrapped his blanket, looked him over and slowly and gently swaddled him back up. Maybe, I felt the Statute of Limitations had passed on letting her handle him or, maybe, she handed him back to me. I don't remember. What I do remember is knowing I had made her happy. She loved the baby even if she did not realize he was her own great-grandson.
     Even just writing this short vignette has made me think of all kinds of things about her and I want to write more but I feel sad and need to take a break. So many fine people are gone and I did not perceive at the time or times that I knew them that they would not live forever at least in this world. My grandmother was a beautiful woman; tall with high cheekbones and beautiful brown eyes. I don't think she had the easiest life especially when she was a child. Her dad was an alcoholic who died an ignoble, drunken death by the side of railroad tracks in sunny Mahnomen, Minnesota.
     But, she was a wonderful grandmother and I was fortunate to know her for many years even if she didn't know me in the end. She died in October 1998 just short of her 94th birthday. It was bitterly cold the day of her funeral but this was Minnesota IN October.