It is four-thirty in the morning and the phone rings. I roll over, staring at the bright numbers on the clock wondering who would be calling at this hour. It must be an emergency. My curiosity and nerves get the best of me, so I get up and walked down the hall. The lights are on in my parents room and I could hear my dad faintly talking to my Grandma on the phone. I could hear my dad saying, “Mom calm down, everything is going to be alright. I’ll be right over.” I knew things weren’t right with my Grandpa, but the fact that my Grandma was calling at four-thirty in the morning was definitely a red flag. I walked into my parents room and their faces were both panic strickened. I rubbed my eyes and my mom said, “ Nick what are you doing up!” I asked what was going on. At this point, my parents were getting dressed and scurrying around the room. Both of them hesitated and looked at each other, before saying anything. They were struggling with whether or not I was old enough to understand what was happening to my Grandpa. With a reassuring look, I said to my dad,”Tell me what’s going on”. He let out a big sigh and said, “Grandpa fell trying to get out of bed.” I fall out of bed all the time, so it didn’t seem that big of deal. It was only when I saw a tear roll down the cheek of my dad did it really hit me that it was a big deal. Giving me a hug and a kiss, my parents left leaving me to take care of my sister and wondering what was going on with Grandpa. That was the morning my life changed.

Unbeknownst to me, my Grandpa had been diagnosed with Mild Cognitive Impairment (MCI), about a year ago. MCI is the beginning stage of Dementia. At this point, my Grandpa was progressively declining. He was losing his short-term memory and his ability to perform basic activities. My parents explained to me that Dementia is a terrible disease that affects someone’s mental ability. It encompasses a wide range of symptoms that are associated with memory loss or thinking skills. I will never forget these words, “Grandpa is slowly losing his memory and his ability to perform everyday activities - that is why he fell out of bed.” My thoughts raced back to all the times I spent with my Grandpa. My Grandpa is an engineer and loves to build and fix things. He would always come over to our house and help us with projects. We have many pictures of my dad, Grandpa and me with our tool belts on working together building our swing set, building our shed, or tearing down our deck. It was always exciting for me. I know my Grandpa was excited too. He would always be whistling or tapping his fingers or pencil while he was working. With this disease, would he forget how to use a hammer? I am scared! I don’t want anything to happen to my Grandpa.

It’s Sunday morning and my family and I are on our way to my grandparents. “Hi, Grandma! Where’s Grandpa?” I asked, surprised by the fact that Grandpa didn’t greet us at the door. She gave me a quick kiss and pointed to the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen where Grandpa was sitting quietly. He had a sort of blank stare on his face as he looked at me. “Hi Grandpa!” I gave him a big hug and slowly his blank stare turned into a smile. As we sat around the kitchen table eating Dunkin Donuts, Grandpa was back to his normal self. I thought to myself with a smile, that it must have been the sausage, egg and cheese sandwich that he loves so much. His confused state of mind when we first arrived seemed to have vanished. We spent some time talking about school and sports and work. I could tell it was difficult for Grandpa to follow along with the conversation and I could tell he wasn’t the same. The sad thing is that he never will be. The visit was good that morning and before we left, my sister and I took our positions at the broom closet. Over the years, Grandpa measured how tall we were and marked the door with a pencil mark. A ritual my sister and I will never forget. We would stand up tall against the door, holding our breaths and hoping for a new line to be marked. We would walk away from the door and sure enough we grew. “Grandpa, where is the yardstick?” I asked with a big smile on my face. He got up immediately and retrieved a pencil and the yardstick. However, this time my dad had to do the measuring and the marking. Grandpa was smiling through it all.

As time went on, my Grandpa’s condition worsened and he became more dependent on us. Our lives changed and it was important for all of us to come together as a family. It was important for me to be there for my parents and for my grandparents. Something came over me emotionally during this time and I wanted to be involved and I wanted to take on different responsibilities. I wanted my parents to know they could count on me and they did. If I was home with my sister, we did our homework, we fed the dog, we picked up and we definitely made sure we got along. If we followed along to my grandparents house, I helped out with household chores that needed tending to. My outlook changed in different aspects of my life. I was more responsible, conscientious, and thoughtful of other people’s feelings. I realized how much I loved my family.

Because my Grandpa’s condition was getting worse, my parents knew he couldn’t stay at home. He needed the proper care for his situation. A week before his move to Maple View Manor, a skilled nursing home, my Grandma called. My mom answered and all she said was, “We’ll be right over.” My Grandpa was acting funny and not really listening to my Grandma. When my parents arrived at their house, my Grandpa was just sitting up in his chair and was unresponsive. He had to be rushed to the hospital. After a series of tests, the doctors told us that he had contracted pneumonia. My Grandpa was in the hospital for many days but he was not alone. My whole family including my aunts, uncles, and cousins visited him almost everyday. One day after school my mom took my sister and I to visit my Grandpa. We arrived at the hospital and ambulances were zooming past us. We checked in, got our visitor passes and walked to the elevator. There was so much activity going on all around us. A nurse pushing a woman and her new baby in wheelchair with a balloon tied to the handle saying, “It’s a Girl”. There were kids on crutches and kids with casts walking to the exit. People in the lobby drinking coffee and Drs. huddled together talking. We got on the elevator and hit the 8th floor. I couldn’t wait to see my Grandpa. When we walked into his room, he acknowledged us with a nod. The nurse had just brought in his food and the smell of mashed potatoes filled the room. During our visit I sat by his bedside and held his hand. He let go of my hand for a moment and looked me in the eye. He shakily lifted his arm and slightly nudged me on the chin. I knew it was his way of saying, “I love you” without saying it. After my Grandpa’s pneumonia was treated, he was sent to a nursing home for special care.

Not only did the hospital have tons of activity, the nursing home was just as busy. Our visits to the nursing home will never be forgotten. We made friends in the lobby who never remembered us the next day and were always asking the same questions over and over again. I’d look at my sister and we would stifle a laugh. At this point, my Grandpa didn’t talk much. However, his roommate ‘Armond’ was very different. Sometimes we would find him snoring so loud we couldn’t even hear each other talk. One day we came in to find Armond screaming like crazy. He was swearing at the nurse and even threw a muffin at her. Even Grandpa couldn’t believe his eyes!!! We decorated his room with pictures and signs that said, “We love you Grandpa”. We visited Grandpa everyday, sometimes two or three times a day. We were hopeful. We knew he needed us by his side. Grandpa never recovered and never left the nursing home. I’ll never forget one particular visit with my Grandpa. We were leaving and I leaned over to hug him. I said, “I love you.” He hugged me and said back to me, “ I love you.” A moment I will never forgot and three words I will never forget. I held back tears and hugged him even tighter. Love is a strong emotion and I am so thankful that my Grandpa was able to still feel love before he died. I will never forget that time in my life. My Grandpa died February 24, 2011.