he would just nod in agreement, making me unsure if he actually recognized me or not. But this time he said “Oh yeah, chepita. Look at you, as pretty as my mama.” Tis took me by surprise because this was the first time in a long while he had recognized me by that nickname. I used to hate being called that as a little kid. I remember getting upset and telling him that was not my name; I would always hear him laughing and tell people how as a little kid I would tell him, “that is not my name… My name is Maria.” I wish he could remember how much he loved calling me by that name and telling this story. Although it’s been hard watching him slowly forget about us, I believe the hardest part of taking care of a family member with Alzheimer’s disease has to be to see him become more and more like a child who can’t fend for himself. Going from being this strong person who I admired so much, to becoming so fragile to the point he can no longer stand or even take a step without assistance.
From this point on, I became closer to my grandparents. I would often stay over to help take care of my grandpa, and would constantly take my grandma out to try and keep her mind off of everything. My grandfather loved ice cream, so my cousins and I decided that every Sunday we would have lunch at my grandparent’s house and later would take them to go get ice cream. But it slowly became harder and harder to take him out of the house because he would even get lost by stepping out of his room to the living room.
Last year I moved to Louisiana. Since then I have felt guilty for leaving him behind, and in spite of the fact that I know there’s a possibility that I will never see him again. I always keep
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him in my thoughts. I’d like to remember him as the strong person he was, and even though he is still with us it feels like I’ve been mourning him for a long time. I try to keep a close connection with my grandparents and call them as often as I can, but talking to my grandfather no longer feels the same. It’s been three months since I last spoke with my grandfather. As I waited for our video call I kept thinking about how much I miss both of my grandparents, and how I would love for them to come visit me, but I know there isn’t even a small chance that my grandpa will be able to get on a plane and come see me.
“Hi honey, how are you?” Grandma asked.
As we kept talking I asked for my grandpa, and as always he looked at me and said, “Who is that?” “It’s Maria,” my grandma answered. “Who’s Maria?” “La Chepita,” said grandma. “Oh,” he uttered. “Where are you?” “I’m in the States grandpa” “oh…okay.”
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