Trail of Breadcrumb Love Notes

            Winter makes me nesty. I mean, it makes me want to just make a nest and hibernate. Or clean things. The two big projects looming over my husband and me this year are our basement and our garage. We’ve only been in the house for a year, so the unpacking list is still fairly long. It was about 9:30 at night not too long ago when I decided I would go tackle a basement box. At first, I wasn’t even sure the big blue bin was mine. I had to unbury it to even try to peak in it, but as soon as I saw the black graduation gowns, I knew they weren’t my husband’s. Inside this giant bin was a wealth of treasures, from my college and seminary graduation gowns (both black) to the stuffed animals, to a Safari Barbie doll and a smaller plastic bin with a bunch of old papers that my grandmother had saved. My mom found a bin for each of the seven grandchildren stuffed to the gills with the papers of our lives: newspaper clippings featuring us, every band concert, every piano or dance recital, every grandparent’s day program…every single scrap of paper with my name on it for the first 30 years of my life.

            First reaction: why? Why would you save every single piece of paper? Do you really need to save every single piano recital program (their name is legion)? You saved the receipt from the keyboard you bought me ($10 from Circuit City)? She had two copies of most programs (which means she saved not just her copy, but my grandfather’s copy as well). I was going to purge. And then I saw handwriting.

            Second reaction: she wrote notes to me? My grandmother would sit down at the kitchen table to drink tea every morning. The morning after the event (whatever it was), she might be moved to write something on the program. “Thanks, Becki, for a great night out!! Grandpop and I enjoyed it!” she wrote on the playbill for the high school musical “The Sound of Music.” I was on costume crew for the musical. On the playbill for “Carousel” she wrote, “Enjoyed the play. Made me laugh and cry and become a part of it.” She saved the article I wrote for the church newsletter about a youth event I attended and she wrote her reflection on the bottom of it. She had a copy of the college literary magazine where I had published a poem and in the margin, she wrote “Great!”

            My grandmother left me love notes. She left me a trail of breadcrumbs to let me know that she loved being my grandmother. On the later things, she might write on the bulletin “Becki preached” just to remind herself why she saved it (or so we would know why she saved it). She has the bulletins that announced my birth and my baptism, my confirmation and my ordination. She has the notes her friends sent her to congratulate her on being a new grandmother. She has the achievement card from when she and my paternal grandmother took a “new grandparents” class together through the hospital where I was born. This woman saved. Everything. She saved the articles about the car accident that put me in the hospital and the article about the time my girl scout troop adopted a stream. And while that seems like a pain to go through and it’s definitely a lot of paper…I’m so glad she did.

            My grandmother has Alzheimer’s. It’s in the advanced stages. She always says she’s glad to see me when I visit, and from the depths of my soul, I think she knows who I am. She might not be able to pull my name out of her brain anymore, but she knows who I am. At least, she knows I’m someone she loves. Alzheimer’s is a terrible disease. My grandfather is like a saint the way he loves her and cares for her, and I hope that when I have dementia my husband loves and cares for me the way he cares for her. Going through the bin of memories – finding the trail of breadcrumbs love notes – reminds me of all the memories I have with my grandmother (with my grandparents, not just with Grandmom). It reminds me to have enough memory for the both of us since she doesn’t remember these things anymore.

            Maybe there’s someone in your life that you love who is battling memory problems. Or maybe you’ve been diagnosed with the early stages of Alzheimer’s (or any other number of the forms of dementia). My advice to you is to leave a trail of breadcrumbs. Write on programs. Save the ticket stubs from the Nutcracker. Label pictures (please, dear God, write on the back of pictures who is who and when and where the picture was taken). And if you come across a trail of breadcrumbs that someone left you, treasure them. Scan them if you don’t want to save the physical paper.

            If you are caring for someone with Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia, or if you have Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia, you are in my prayers.