Redemption of an Old Man
My mom’s dad was an alcoholic. He was drunk through most of her special moments growing up. He was distant, and he lied. His wife didn’t trust him. He had high walls around him.
Then he got old. He still drank. He and Grandma moved from New Jersey to be near my mom and dad in Illinois.
Soon, my dad took away his car keys. He fought tooth and nail for his independence, but he wasn’t able to get out to drink without the car. The fog began to lift. And then, Grandma passed away. This man we had always known as irritable, lying, and closed, melted away. He mourned his wife.
Grandpa began to say “thank you.” He started to tell my mom, “I love you.” His dementia gave him a sweet naivety, an innocence. He talked about his good life and the gratitude he had for his family. His addictive tendency turned toward Oreo cookies. He walked through the hallways of his retirement community and greeted his neighbors with a smile, a hello, and a delicate handshake. He always asked my parents about their dog Blake, oh and then their kids. He became simple, warm, and grateful.
It was an incredible gift for my mom to get to know her father in the last few years.
Grandpa passed away in the middle of the night (this afternoon by our clock). He had skin cancer growing behind his ear since February, and it finally took him. I am grateful for my Grandpa and for his final years of love and clarity. He was a kind man.
-Jessica
