I visited my grandma yesterday. She's now in a nursing home. For a few years she lived with my aunt, but it became too difficult to take care of her. Grandma would take off walking down to her house. She would pound on the windows and doors, swearing up and down that "little Barbie" was in the house and needed help. I walked to the house with Grandma once and witnessed the craziness. I didn't know what to do. By this time, Grandma was in her eighth or ninth year of Alzheimer's Disease.

Grandma would call my mom the name of someone she went to grade school with. Sometimes she would know us, sometimes she
wouldn't. It broke my heart. I remember my Grandma in her better days. She was a strong, farm woman who could cook like crazy. But she was always my nice grandma. She was loving and sweet.

I wanted to see Grandma so I could get a picture of us together. It was so important to me. She's now 92, and I don't know how much longer we'll have her. I had to have that picture.

When I got to the nursing home, Grandma was in the dining room. It was lunch time soon. She was asleep sitting up. I went up to her and said quietly, "Grandma? It's Trina." She perked up, so I assumed she knew who I was. After a few minutes I said, "Grandma? Do you know who I am?" She shook her head no, and I felt my heart sink. I was so hoping she'd know me because I'm her only granddaughter. So, I explained to her that I was Carolyn's daughter and I was her granddaughter. She just smiled and nodded her head. I knew she was just agreeing with me...she still had no idea. I felt so sad. She was just a shell of the woman she used to be.

I asked her if I could take a picture of us together and she agreed. It turned out to be one of the most emotional pictures I've taken. It was a picture of youth and the elderly. Such a sharp contrast. But the thing that upset me the most was that you could see that Grandma's brain is just vacant. There's just nothing in her eyes anymore...no sparkle, no happiness. I left her a picture of my son and me hoping next time she may remember, but I doubt it.