Fading Flowers

She went up to the counter to sign in for the day. Each visitor must sign in and out, as that was one of the safety measures the home had in place. She adjusted her purse and placed the wreath she had brought on the counter so she could reach for the pen and leave her John Hancock.

She said a quiet hello to the staff as she passed by. She knew these were the extended family members for her Grandmother now. Grandma knew these people by name and embraced many of them as adopted sons and daughters and grandchildren. Many of her comments would now just as likely be about staff members as it would be about family.

As she made her way to her Grandmother’s room, she noticed the bow on the last wreath she had made had been flattened again. She knew she would hear about this again from Grandma, as the lady down the hall loved the bow on this particular wreath and could not walk by without reaching out and feeling the material between her fingers. Neither herself nor her mother had been able to explain to Grandma that the lady was in the middle stages of dementia and did not realize her actions. Grandma just knew that this wreath was hers, and the lady needed to keep her hands off of it if she knew what was good for her.

She sighed knowing that Grandma might call her by her sister’s name again. She would also ask for the millionth time if she had lost weight, which would be flattering, but she had actually gained weight. Grandma had a habit of confusing some of her family members now.

The thing she remembered about Kelly though, was that Kelly made her wreaths. She was not the best at making them, but believed that Grandma saw that effort as something that she had passed down. She might not have been a wreath maker herself, but the woman could sew and stitch blankets like no other. That creative gene had been passed down to several of the grandkids in the family. Making something from nothing seemed to be skill that they all had in common.

Kelly lightly knocked on the door. Grandma actually was housed in the same room as her sister. Both told her to come on in. Kelly presented her new wreath to Grandma. It was a summertime wreath full of bright, orange marigolds mixed into green mesh. This one had a different type of bow, so maybe the lady down the hall would not be tempted to touch it each time she passed. It was full of summertime colors and cheerful.

Grandma loved the wreath. She then asked the same question about having lost weight. Kelly played along and said she had. They talked about her mother and others in the family. Her Great Aunt joined in the discussions. Overall it was a lovely visit and she even had the opportunity to help Grandma have her nails cut, which was quite the task has her hands shook tremendously. When it came time to leave she kissed Grandma on the cheek and hugged her tightly.

Each visit was a gift, though it was a chore going to a place that was not Grandma’s house. That house had been where each Thanksgiving and Christmas was celebrated before she had even been born. Grandma’s cooking was part of those memories, and even many childhood Sunday dinner memories that Kelly had. Knowing Grandma was no longer able to cook for herself or live in her own home was hard, as she was such a pillar of the family. Everyone had memories of bringing their significant other to Grandma’s house, and her getting on each girl for not waiting on her boyfriend/fiance’/husband. There was no equal rights in Grandma’s house. A woman cared for and waited on her man if she loved him.

The visit was worth the memories she knew she would once hold dear. It made the time she had took out of her day worth going. The wreath now hanging on the door was just her small way of letting Grandma know she loved her and was thinking of her even when she was not there.

Wrote for Summer Challenge #4. Tips appreciated; hearts too!