Nearest the pie family can figure, Grandma Pie had a stroke. It had some effect on her physically, but it effected her memory more. I brought her dinner last night and saw her staring blankly at the tv remote in one hand and the cordless telephone in the other. When I asked her if I could help her with anything, she looked up at me blankly and said “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to turn on the TV?” I asked.
“I think so. I just don’t know what I’m trying to do.” she replied.
Every step she takes now is slow, shaky, and lacks confidence. It’s as if she has to re-evaluate her directions and reaffirm where she is going as soon as she sets her foot down. She’s starting to forget when and where she needs to go to the bathroom. This morning she tried to make it to the toilet and ended up “dropping her filling” in three small piles before she could sit down. She didn’t realize it either until Mrs. Pie walked in and asked her mother if the dogs had gone to the bathroom on her floor. Grandma Pie tried to play it ignorant and said she had no idea where it came from.
Here’s where her past is now catching up to her. Half of the family doesn’t believe that she really had a stroke. They think that she’s making it up to get sympathy. There are times when I look at her struggle to come up with even the simplest of words to say and there’s a fear in her eyes. It’s a fear I recognize from when my grandfather had his stroke and struggled with speaking for the last couple years of his life. It’s a fear of feeling everything slowly slip away from you. It’s a fear that is difficult to fake.
But then there are times where it seems obvious that she’s playing for sympathy. In the evening, she’ll just stand in the kitchen or the hall and stare at someone – like she’s waiting to be noticed and waited on. Then once they look at her, she starts in on the slow creaky walk and a soft ghost-like moan that gives her an air of sickness. Grandma Pie has lied to so many people for so long that she’s lost a lot of her credibility.
It may seem cruel, but I am praying that she passes away soon. If the stroke is real, then I can’t imagine her living in constant pain and I just hope that her soul will find peace. If the “stroke” is fake, then my disgust and contempt of her will grow to the point where I won’t think she deserves to live. The end result is the same either way.