While I am used of this type of family encouragement, yesterday’s sound advice was a little more poignant than usual because it was the only familiar aspect of our entire conversation. In spite of her dementia, my grandma still remembered to tell me that I need to find myself a nice fella. It was hilarious and comfortable.
It’s been years since I’ve brought a man I was dating to meet my grandma, and in turn, it’s been years that she has been telling me to find myself a nice man. In those years my grandma has even made an effort to help me find Mr. Right by telling any and every man she encounters about me; her single granddaughter.
Ah yes, the orderlies and doctors at her nursing home; waiters; clerks; other people’s grandchildren; and even the paramedics who have helped her when she has landed in the emergency room for dizzy spells and heart palpitations; they’ve all heard of me. What’s more, is that sometimes I have even been with her when she has told these men about me. To date her efforts have been awkward and futile, but her persistence is admirable.
My grandma really wants me to find Mr. Right... Or, just Mr. Anybody. I’m not even sure anymore.
While I used to get annoyed at these constant suggestions (My grandma isn’t my only family member who wants me to find Mr. Right), I now find myself looking forward to this suggestion; it’s one of the only familiar things left we have to talk about. Her dementia has stolen so many of her memories, making her thoughts colourful and not always coherent, and yet her mission to find me love is still in the forefront of her mind.
At the end of the day, I will take her advice. When I do find myself a nice man I will make sure that she is one of the first to know.