Grandma W.O.W.

She's my maternal grandmother and I love her dearly for many, many reasons.  She had an amazing love affair with my grandfather who passed away nearly 25 years ago.  She likes to tell us how, after marrying him, her initials changed from W.O.E. to W.O.W.  She joked that it was obviously an upgrade and looked much better on her bowling shirt.  My grandfather suffered a very unusual stroke at a young age which left him completely paralyzed.  He spent approximately one year in the hospital after the stroke.  Doctors were convinced that his chances for improvement and recovery were slim to none.  They told my grandma that she should go about her business and just be the bright spot in his day when she visited.  My grandma wouldn't accept that, insisting that my grandfather's mind was still in tact and that she would be bringing him home.  Long story short, she was right.  Although he remained a quadraplegic and confined to a wheelchair, he was eventually able to speak in a raspy whisper and regained enough movement in his arms to eat, write and do some simple water color painting on his own.  He came home and my grandma took care of him for over 15 years until he passed on.  Everyone should be blessed to experience a love as strong and genuine as theirs.

I honestly cannot remember a time when Grandma W.O.W. was hospitalized for her own personal medical issues.  Last night, she was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia and will probably be there for a few days. Instead of our typical weekend breakfast dates at Mickey D's, I visited her at the hospital this morning and had a difficult time seeing her physically weaker than I've ever seen her before.  Her mind has also significanty deteriorated over this past year.  She hasn't been officially diagnosed with Alzheimer's, but she clearly has dementia issues and increasing problems with her short-term memory.   

I am the oldest of her four grandchildren. None of us have kids of our own yet.  Over the past 3 years, I've hoped every month that I would be able to tell Grandma W.O.W. that we are having a baby and that she will be a great-grandma.  But so far, our fertility struggles have robbed me of this opportunity.  And as each month passes and she continues to deteriorate, I fear that Grandma W.O.W. may never know or be able to fully appreciate the joy of being a great-grandma.  Just one of the many reasons I resent being delayed in DINKville.