She called on, Jesus, Mary AND Joseph. . .

Catherine was quiet a feisty lady. She was at least 80 yrs old and I was somewhere in my 20's when I was her Aide at the nursing home she lived in. She had raised many children, lived on and worked a farm with her husband, until they were no longer physically able. She knew the meaning of tired to the bone.

She had dementia. Her husband had already passed on several years before this, and her children had important lives to lead. They would come visit at Christmas and Thanksgiving and sometimes even on Mother's Day. But I am not sure at this point Catherine really even noticed. We had become her family, and she had become "Grandma". That is what she answered to, so that is what we all called her.

She was no longer able to walk, however she couldn't seem to remember that. She was in a wheelchair with a "lap buddy" or a tray. It really depended on the day and how feisty she was at that moment. She was able to stand but only long enough to move her from the bed to wheelchair or from the wheelchair to the toilet. Her bed was 6" from the floor with a soft mat laying on the floor beside it. She was forever trying to get out of bed, forgetting she wasn't able to walk, and then would fall. So to help prevent her from breaking anything (like a hip), her bed was lowered as low as it would go.

"Grandma" taught me how to think fast, and move fast. She hated to get out of bed. She hated to get a bath, she hated to get dressed, and she never wanted to give up her teeth for the night so they could get cleaned and soak. I learned real fast, that if I was going to make it out of her room without bleeding I had to hurry and get her dressed and bathed just as fast as I could. See, Grandma I am sure was a street fighter in her younger days. She had a great right hook!! She would hit, yell, curse, bite, pull hair. Whatever it took to get you to leave her alone. But once you were done that was the end of the battle. It was like she totally forgot you just lost 5 pounds of sweat just trying to dress her for breakfast. Once in her chair she was happy as a lark.

I learned one night while putting her to bed that if you talked real sweet to her, she would be nice just long enough to get her teeth before she bit you. See, no one was able to get those teeth out of her mouth without getting bit. She just wasn't giving them up. I would get her laughing and before she even knew what happened I could do a one finger sweep and get the bottom plate right out of there. As soon as she realized it though, she would be mad as a hornet!! But once the bottoms were out I was less afraid of being bit. See, if you can hold the bottom jaw down long enough to get the top plate out, you are home free. Just watch out for her hands because she would be swinging by this point. I could have this whole tooth thing done in a matter of less than 2 minutes.

"Grandma" was my favorite nursing home resident. I think it didn't bother me that she beat me up everyday when getting dressed and undressed because I knew she didn't know what she was doing. After her teeth were out it wasn't as hard to deal with. I would be changing her clothes while she was knawing on my arm. Her teeth were already out so she was just "gumming" me to death. That didn't bother me in the least and it kept her busy and satisfied until I got her clothes changed.

However, keeping her nails trimmed was quiet a chore. You let those babies grow too long and you were in trouble. I have scars on my arms to this day from sweet little "Grandma". I think of them as my way to never forget her!

I remember one morning I went to get her up. It was early probably 5am, but I had alot of people to get up and dressed before breakfast and I knew she was going to put up a fight no matter what time I did it, so I just as soon get her done. I went in and knelt down by her bed, rubbed her forehead and talked real sweet to her, trying to wake her up in a good mood. She looked at me with utter disgust and said, "Well, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, but especially Joseph!" I think this was her way of saying. . . 'I have been up with the chickens my whole life, can you not just let me be for one cotton-pickin' day?'

Grandma wasn't always combative, sometimes she could be so sweet. She would tell us she loved us and give us a sweet little kiss on our cheeks. And if you weren't careful when you walked by her wheelchair, she might just give you a little swat on your behind, and chuckle like a mischevious child.

The nursing home was awfully quiet after "Grandma" passed on. Of course her family showed up just in time for that, even though they had not been there much of the other time. "Grandma" had us with her too. She left this world only after making an impact on many lives of those who cared for her. Most of us in our 20's to early 30's thought we had it all figured out. "Grandma" helped us remember what is important about life. Loving someone even though, even if and even when.

She loved her family even though they didn't visit, even if she was mean to them too, and even when she couldn't remember who they were.

And we (her caregivers) love "Grandma", even though she yelled and hit, even if she pulled our hair and bit us, and even when she would slap our behinds and give us those sweet kisses.

One can not have too many Grandmas!!!