When I was four years old, I spent a lot of time with my grandmother. I recall feeling loved and protected in her care. When I was frightened she let me sleep in her bed, and she let me twirl her hair like I did my mother’s. She went above and beyond simply feeding, bathing, and tucking me in. She listened to me and engaged with me.
Now, she’s a 101 years old. As I write this, she’s in her same room on the farm where she’s lived for the last 51 years. She gets around pretty well, but needs someone to help her up and to the bathroom at night. An aide comes during the day. My aunt stays with her at night. In order to give my aunt a much-deserved break, I’m taking care of my grandmother tonight.