Teen thankful for lessons from grandparents' shining love amid Alzheimer's darkness
"Her hand grasped the little that she had left of him, though his hold was born more from an instinctive reaction. For he was unaware of the hand in which he held. It was at that moment that I came to realize the genuine meaning of love."
-- Lauren Howell
Sometimes, the best lessons are taught without trying to teach them. Sometimes, they are learned by simply observing and listening.
And so it was with Lauren Howell, the Columbus High School student whose "The Lesson of Love" essay won first place among 10th-graders in the 2014-15 Young Georgia Authors writing competition.
Now an 11th-grader, one of the reasons Lauren will be thankful today is having a grandmother who showed her how the power of love still can shine amid the darkness of Alzheimer's disease.
Different
"At a young age, I knew my grandpa was different. We always had to be quiet around him so that he would not become irritated. He was easily confused, often failing to remember where the bathroom was located. At times he would often confuse one grandchild for another. When I became closer to the age of eight, we began going to a different place to visit him."
Thanksgiving tradition for Lauren, 17, means celebrating with relatives in the Atlanta area. That included visiting Pop, her paternal grandfather, in a nursing home until he died at 84, the day before Valentine's Day in 2014. Lauren has no memory of Pop without dementia. As a Church of God minister for 47 years, the Rev. Charles Howell could recite Bible verses but couldn't say her name. She only vaguely recalls him when he could talk and walk. Alzheimer's reverted his persona to a little boy, even sleeping in the fetal position.
"That was kind of hard, him not recognizing me," she said. "But I grew up knowing it wasn't his fault and it wasn't my fault, which really helped a lot, just to know that it was the disease."
Yet hearing her older cousins talk about the vibrant grandfather they knew was tough to take. "So part of me just kind of came up with the idea from stories that I heard, how people talked about him," she said. "I kind of imagined him in my own way." The image was of "the ideal grandfather, taking me on ice cream dates or taking me fishing," she said. "That was the stuff that bothered me the most, that I longed for, just to have a relationship with a grandfather like was the ones in the movies."
Trying to connect with Pop without knowing whether she really was connecting was difficult to accept. But then she began paying attention to how Grammy, Jayne Howell, connected with her husband of 62 years.
Care
"I watched him, and I watched a weak, yet sincere smile stretch across my grandmother's aged face. I watched her wipe his mouth, as he innately chewed the soft food. I saw his eyes, void of all recognition, as they held a blank stare. I watched as she gazed at him with love, heartache, and mourning."
Grammy placed throughout Pop's nursing home room notes for the staff. Some notes politely gave detailed instructions about Pop's preferences; others graciously thanked the staff for the care they gave him. Grammy, however, did her best to be there at every meal so she could feed him.
"He just was a part of me," Grammy explained. "I wanted to be there with him. That was important. I enjoyed being there, knowing that I could spend time with him."
While visiting Pop, Lauren enjoyed feeding him and brushing his hair. On a few Sunday afternoons, Lauren and some of the other 17 grandchildren sang "Amazing Grace" for him. Hymns and praise songs, especially from the Gaither Vocal Band, eased his agitation.
"We could sense his presence calm down," Lauren said.
Even when he wouldn't acknowledge her presence, Lauren sensed Pop loved the love she gave him. She sat by his bedside and held his hand. She told him about the marvelous and the mundane parts of her life -- despite understanding that he probably didn't understand.
"That would help me feel like we did have a relationship," she said.
Pop hardly talked at all his last three years. Grammy wrote down every word she heard him utter during that period.
"I just took it a day at a time," Grammy said. "My main focus was to get there. The main thing, I could get ready and get in the car and head off to him. I would be happy to be with him."
Strength and courage
"Most importantly, my grandparents taught me, being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."
The last time Lauren visited Pop was when he was moved into hospice care a few days before he died.
"It was kind of bittersweet," she said. "It was really sad, knowing I wouldn't be able to visit him anymore, but it was also kind of nice to know he wouldn't have to keep struggling or suffering through this."
Last year, the first Thanksgiving without Pop was "kind of hard," Lauren said. "He kind of brought us all together." But the family mentioned Pop in their prayers and they shared their favorite stories about him. "We still kept him involved," she said.
So this Thanksgiving will be another one without Pop. His absence will be felt, Lauren said, but it won't sting as much. "Even though he's not here," she said, "we'll still bring him up in conversation, keep him alive in the family, because he's always going to be a big part of that."
And now the family has Lauren's tribute to preserve it. "It was just very heartwarming," Grammy said. "It was very touching and meant so much." Lauren's words also wowed her parents, Sarah and Sonny Howell. "It was pretty overwhelming to think that it had touched her that deeply and in that way," Sonny said.
"It was wonderful that my daughter was able to witness that," Sarah said. "It's very humbling to me, as a mother, to be able to have one of those real live examples of authentic love."
Mark Rice, 706-576-6272. Follow him on Twitter @MarkRiceLE.
Lauren Howell's state-winning essay
This story was originally published November 25, 2015 at 5:54 PM with the headline "Teen thankful for lessons from grandparents' shining love amid Alzheimer's darkness."