Adopt A Grandparent

Aunt Lucille's death had me diving back into pictures and family memories and I realized that I barely knew my grandparents on my dad's side.  Grandpa C died when I was 3 years old.  I don't even remember him.  And Grandma C died when I was 10 or 11.  I only have one or two memories of her.  Those strawberry, vanilla and chocolate wafer cookies are a part of those memories.  That left my grandparents on my mom's side and I was actually kind of uncomfortable around older people as a teenager.  I've been racking my brain trying to understand why I didn't immerse myself in those relationships back then.  All I can come up with is that I was a stupid teenager.  A know-it-all ... or not so know-it-all teenager.   I was shy and soft-spoken and "old people" couldn't hear well.  It was hard to have a conversation.  Sometimes life is just backwards.  By the time I'm old enough to find my voice and am actually drawn -- really drawn -- to elderly people, I don't have any living grandparents.  That pretty much sucks.  I wouldn't have known back then that I wouldn't have any living grandparents before I reached the age of 30. 

I signed up for a Random Acts of Kindness meetup group over a year ago that keeps sending me "Adopt a Grandparent" events every couple of months.  They meet at a nursing home not far from me where I believe, my dad actually stayed after knee surgery or a hospice stay.   After a year of email invitations to join, I have yet to participate.  What am I afraid of?  I finally feel like I can have a conversation with "old people."  Something is holding me back. I think I'm afraid of getting attached. I'm being selfish because I don't want to hurt any more. If I live long enough to be moved to assisted living or a nursing home, who is going to visit me? Will I feel alone?  If family isn't nearby and I'm not getting daily or weekly visits, of course I would feel alone.  And forgotten.  And as though my life didn't matter.

I think those are probably common feelings for men and women living what's left of their lives in a nursing home.  By looking forward to visitors, they have a reason to keep their light burning.  They have a reason to engage and smile and feel like they matter.

Why wouldn't I give that gift to some gentle soul who has given so much during their life? They may have raised a family.  They may have fought in a war.  They have a story.

I received another reminder today about an Adopt a Grandparent event and I believe they meet next Sunday.  I don't know what to expect.  I have visions of "The Notebook" and my dad's stay at hospice, and I'm afraid to find out what emotions a real visit will conjure up.  But it's not about me.  And I really think that it's time that I learn someone's story.   They need to know that they matter.