Trips to see Grandma and Grandpa Forsman were always exciting. We looked forward to running out in the woods and "driving" the tractors on the farm. Climbing the hay bales in the barn and playing checkers were staples of our visits. Then they moved into town (a small town, but a town nonetheless). Well, then we looked forward to playing Scrabble as our vocabularies grew and our strategy developed. We would play croquet in the front yard and watch the squirrels in the back. Grandpa would let us shoot his BB guns and Grandma would make her famous wheat buns. We would sit around the breakfast table eating cookies dipped in coffee (an apparently Swedish tradition?) and listening to Grandpa's stories.
This visit was not quite so wonderful. Ever since Grandpa's stroke in March, visits have been a sad reminder of how short life is; of how quickly one's situation can change. Living in a nursing home now, Grandpa in the regular section and Grandma in the Alzheimer's unit, we have to sell their house. This was the final walk-through, pick-up, and "find all the sentimental or precious items to keep" trip before the mid-January auction and closing date.
There were so many memories held in those closets. Boxes full of bags full of old cards, letters, and pictures from as far back as the early 1900s - so much life enclosed in those precious items.
It was difficult to leave the house, knowing that I will never again enter. Visits will be much different now - staying at the local motel with occasional visits to the nursing home so as not to overwhelm Grandma and Grandpa. No more Swedish breakfasts, many more tears, and a much harder time leaving, knowing that there may not be another visit. Sigh. Such is life..On a lighter note, we found some of Grandma's old glasses. And they're back in style! A short photo shoot ensued.
Within the next couple days, I want to post more thoughts on aging - Here's a reminder to myself :)
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