GG

The first interaction I remember with my great-grandma, GG (as my siblings and I call her) was when I was five years old and my family gathered at my grandparents’ house for a Jewish holiday. My grandma, GG, and I jumped rope on the back porch with a thin leather rope, every once in awhile hitting one of my grandpa’s beloved plants and laughing together, hoping we wouldn’t get caught. First it was my turn, then my grandma’s, and then GG’s. Her short, freshly groomed, blonde hair bounced with each jump she took. Her smile was warm yet intense; she didn’t want to exhaust herself, but she was determined to beat us in number of jumps. She was wearing her treasured matching black blouse and trousers with a vibrant, sequined cherry pattern and black Mary Janes; it was certainly eye catching. Furthermore, she wore a thick layer of poorly blended foundation, bright pink blush, heaps of blue eye shadow, and a deep red lipstick, which she thought was subtle. Even so, she looked beautiful.

Over dinner later that day, GG looked at me and said, with her heavy Long Island accent and big smile, the same thing she said every time she saw me, “Smile really big for me.” I smiled. “Look at those double dimples.” Something about these two faint lines on my lower cheeks brought her so much happiness.

Twelve years later she is ninety-eight years old. I look back on that day in astonishment; how did her liveliness disappear? When I was younger, her appearance did not reflect her age, but time has certainly caught up to her. Her memory was always a bit unsteady, but now it has just about escaped her completely. For the past ten years or so, my family would plan each of her birthday parties like it would be her last, making sure it was something we could happily look back on. Twelve extravagant birthdays later she is still here, now in her old Jewish nursing home with her aide, Princess.

I had never been to a nursing home before GG moved into one and I began to visit her. The lobby exhibited terrifying handmade doll sculptures of elders doing different activities; they were everywhere you turned. Whenever my sister and I visited, we always went on a hunt to find the creepiest one — usually the one knitting in her rocking chair was the winner. Walkers and canes were placed all around the room, and the residents rarely moved. At least thirty elders were slumped over in chairs fast asleep with their aides by their side. The few people who were awake lit up when young people, like my sister and me, entered the lobby. They looked at us as if we were rare creatures. When we greeted GG, she turned to anyone and everyone by her side and announced that we were her great-grandchildren, even if she had never met them before; they often weren’t listening anyways. I wished I could say not much had changed since we jumped rope on my grandma’s back porch, but I would have been lying. 

When I visited her this past fall, I noticed that physically she appeared about the same, but mentally, she had disappeared. Her skin was still as wrinkly as a crumpled-up brown paper bag. A heavy layer of makeup, now put on by Princess, seeped into the crevices of her skin and was more noticeable than ever. Her jewelry ranged from simple elegant pearls to valuable antiques all worth an absurd amount of money. Though she was no longer able to do most of the things she used to and barely left her nursing home, she still insisted on looking like she was going to attend a fancy event. She squinted in her oversized black glasses and slowly looked around the lobby of her home in an attempt to discover something new or exciting. When she spotted me, her eyebrows raised slightly; I sensed confusion. Though I had seen her less than a month ago, she blankly stared at me until my grandma said to her, “Mom, this is Haley, your great-granddaughter.” Her confusion remained for a few seconds until suddenly it clicked, “Oh, Haley, my dear,” she said in her faint voice. Her thoughts ran in circles and her mind refreshed every minute. “Have I ever told you what beautiful double dimples you have?” Her smile widened. Her mind immediately moved the next thought. “How is school?”... two minutes later...“How is school?”... one minute later… “Do I know you?” I was no longer a relevant thought.