I was just reminded by something that was mentioned elsewhere of the time I called my grandparents to let them know... I forget, actually, whether it was the after-action report on the Great Brain Adventure, 10 years ago, or when I was diagnosed with MS a couple of years later. Something neurological, anyway.

Calling my grandparents on the phone was always a bit of an adventure, because Gramp is, and has been for years, pretty much as deaf as a post, but Gram hated talking on the phone, so would pretty much only do so when she could absolutely not avoid it, and then only for the absolute minimum necessary. As an example, here is a complete transcript of the last telephone conversation I had with her:

GRAM
Hello?

ME
Hi, Gram, it's Ben. Just called to wish you a happy birthday.

GRAM
Well, thank you, dear. Bye now.

(click)

On this particular occasion, she didn't come to the phone at all, but Gramp had his hearing aid in, so he was more or less able to cope with the phone, and I gave him the short version of what I'd learned from the doctors about my neurological woes. At which point the following ensued:

GRAMP
(deadpan)
Are we absolutely sure it's not syphilis?

GRAM
(shouting at him in the background)
Leonard!

GRAMP
(still deadpan)
Your grandmother wanted me to ask that.

GRAM
(utterly indignant)
Leonard!!

A random fond memory. She's gone now, of course, and he's fading, so it's nice to remember them as they were.

(Mercifully, thus far it seems Gramp has the kind of Alzheimer's where you still know who you are, who everyone else is, and where you are, but each day is filled with bemusement and repetition. I say mercifully because that's bad, but I would submit that it's not as bad as the kind where everyone is a stranger, you're trapped in an unfamiliar place, and everything that happens is terrifying and incomprehensible. Also, more than once over the course of the past 14 months, I have caught myself reflecting that if he had chosen a time to plunge headlong into dementia and lose track of everything that is happening outside of Old Folks' Jail, he could hardly have picked a better one.)

--G.
-><-
Benjamin D. Hutchins, Co-Founder, Editor-in-Chief, & Forum Mod
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited http://www.eyrie-productions.com/
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>GRAM
>Hello?
>
>ME
>Hi, Gram, it's Ben. Just called to wish you a happy birthday.
>
>GRAM
>Well, thank you, dear. Bye now.
>
>(click)

My mother has a certain tendency to be entirely convinced that whatever it is she is doing is more important than whatever reason I am calling for. So, it tends to be something quite similar to this in many cases, except that it goes "I'll call you later, bye (click)" instead. Which in all honest is rather insulting, many times. Ah, well.

>GRAMP
>(deadpan)
>Are we absolutely sure it's not syphilis?
>
>GRAM
>(shouting at him in the background)
>Leonard!
>
>GRAMP
>(still deadpan)
>Your grandmother wanted me to ask that.
>
>GRAM
>(utterly indignant)
>Leonard!!
>
>A random fond memory. She's gone now, of course, and he's fading, so
>it's nice to remember them as they were.

This elicited a rather massive *SNORK!* from me. I could easily see my own grandfather doing something similar, from what I remember of him. Unfortunately, he never really got the chance, as he suffered a rather massive stroke when I was in my early 10s. Before that, however, he had JUST the sort of humor that it would have surprised no-one if he did this.

>(Mercifully, thus far it seems Gramp has the kind of Alzheimer's where
>you still know who you are, who everyone else is, and where you are,
>but each day is filled with bemusement and repetition. I say
>mercifully because that's bad, but I would submit that it's not
>as bad as the kind where everyone is a stranger, you're trapped
>in an unfamiliar place, and everything that happens is terrifying and
>incomprehensible.

Well, the expression that comes to mind here is "plague or cholera?" I don't think I'd want cholera, but if the alternative is the bubonic plague...yeah.

>Also, more than once over the course of the past 14
>months, I have caught myself reflecting that if he had chosen a
>time to plunge headlong into dementia and lose track of everything
>that is happening outside of Old Folks' Jail, he could hardly have
>picked a better one.)

And I can only agree. You think there is some sort of temporary version I could contract, last another 3 years or so? I mean, I'm not even on the same continent, and I'd rather not have to know what's going on with all of that.

...!
Stoke Mandeville, Esq & The Victorian Ballsmiths
"Nobody Want Verdigris-Covered Balls!"

It's always good to remember the good times. Your grandpa's delivery is priceless. Reminds me of an exchange with my grandma before the first date with the girl who ended up my wife.

Grandma: And where do you thing you're going?

Me (exiting my 12-year old cousin's birthday party): I have a date, Gramma.

Grandma (giving me the fisheye): Did you just graduate from high school yesterday?

Me (she was there): Yes, Gramma.

Grandma (shaking her head): Well, be good. And if you can't be good, be careful. And if you can't be careful, name it after me!

Entire room: GRAMMA!

Grandma: (cackles in glee.)

I exit, stage right, blushing furiously, but laughing. It *was* a good first date.

Dementia sucks. You've got my sympathy.