She may have changed the eyeglass prescription as years passed but she never left the optometrist’s office without her defining red frames, except for once. Apparently red was not “in-style” that year and she had to do with another, highly-underappreciated color. That, however, lasted but a few month until she found another pair of red frames.
My first Christmas with the family was one like no other. Growing up nearly 3000 miles away from my grandparents I couldn’t remember the last time I spent the holiday with grandmas and grandpas. Every year Mimi says, “I must make my presentation!” This year it was quite exceptional. She handed out stockings filled with goodies to each of her 5 grandchildren and then handed me a stocking, embroidered with the name “Dawn”. She said, I now have 6 beautiful grandchildren,” gesturing toward me.
Mimi’s stories compose the family heritage. She talks about being sent on a bus to the big city after high school graduation (she confesses that she had no intention of ever leaving home but found that her father had other plans). She told us stories of climbing a mountain in Brazil, the beauty and spectacle changed her forever. She spilled the beans about all the most embarrassing moments from my husband’s childhood.
She always says, “I’m so proud of all of you, I love you very much!” And it’s true. She loves us, unconditionally. She may not like some of the choices we’ve made in life but her unwavering refrain is, “I’m so proud of you, I love you very much.”
Mimi is beauty. She is life. She has Alzheimer’s disease. She is a handful of expensive, silk ribbons that are slowly slipping between our fingers. Her stories are increasingly more difficult to follow. Her memories are more muddled. Her charm is tinted by frustration. Seldom do we have the privilege of knowing people who will impact our lives so profoundly, both in the way they live and in the legacy that they so carefully construct for us. Mimi has built us a fortress under which we will crouch, by which we will remember her stories—even when she may not.
She may have changed the eyeglass prescription as years passed but she never left the optometrist’s office without her defining red frames, except for once. Apparently red was not “in-style” that year and she had to do with another, highly-underappreciated color. That, however, lasted but a few month until she found another pair of red frames.
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