It isn't easy for me to go visit my grandma anymore. She always recognizes me, but she can't carry a conversation and seems so different in just the three short years she has been in the nursing home.
I remember and sometimes long for the way it used to be.
But I know we can't live in the past.
So when Xavier asked me for the third day in a row to "go see great-grandma," I packed up the car and hoped for the best. Because he didn't know. He didn't remember what she used to be like.
When we left the nursing home forty minutes, I had tears in my eyes.
Because he looked her in the eye and told her, "Hi, Great Grandma" and "Look, it's a red crayon, Great Grandma" and "I love you." Because he slowed down his running feet to match the pace of her wheelchair and trudged around the nursing home courtyard three times at her side. Because he without hesitation kissed her weathered cheek as we prepared to leave.
Because he could see in her what I sometimes can't anymore.
I love you, Xavier, and I was so proud of you today!