I love Thanksgiving. Not simply because of the food, I do love the food though, but because it’s a chance to spend time with your loved ones. Usually for the Gardner’s it’s a house full of noise, my cousins running around, and my grandma and others working hard in the kitchen.
However, Thanksgiving looked a little different for my family this year. It was spent in my grandma’s quiet room at the retirement home.
My grandma has dementia now. It’s been hard watching her slowly lose pieces of herself. Some days she remembers, but most days she doesn’t. Walking into her room felt different this year. No warm kitchen smells, no family chaos, no constant chatter. Just silence.
When I walked in, something amazing happened. Her eyes lit up. She grabbed my hand and said “my baby”. In a time where she forgets a lot, she knew me.
We didn’t have a big Thanksgiving dinner. There was no turkey, no yams, no pumpkin pie. Just simple conversations. Our conversation was all over the place. She’d talk about something from years ago, then ask the same question over and over. But I didn’t care. I was just happy to be with her.
This wasn’t the Thanksgiving I expected or really wanted.
It was hard. It was hard seeing her forget our conversations just minutes after we talked. Hard watching her get confused about who I was. Hard seeing her struggle to sleep. Hard knowing she wasn’t the same grandma who used to remember every single detail of our family’s life. Hard seeing the cloudiness in her eyes.
But it was also easy. Easy to love her. Easy to sit next to her and hold her hand. Easy to smile when she remembered my name. Easy to be grateful that I could spend time with her. Easy to love her exactly as she is right now. Easy to be thankful for all our memories. Easy to make new memories, even if she wouldn’t remember them.
As we sat holding hands, I realized something important. Thanksgiving isn’t about perfect meals or perfect families. It’s about love. It’s about showing up. It’s about being there for the people you love.
My grandma might not remember this day next week, but I will. I’ll remember how it felt to hold her hand. How her eyes lit up when she saw me. How we spent time together.
This Thanksgiving taught me something important. Memories might fade, but love can always stay strong. While this was far from my most exciting or joyful thanksgiving, it’s the one I will remember and cherish the most.
