When I think of a grandma, I think of a kind, elderly lady who spoils her grandchildren with gifts and teaches them the way of the world. Unfortunately, my grandma, whom I call Gigi, has not always been a big part of my life. When I was young, she would show me much attention and affection, but as I started to get older, she became increasingly distant. I later realized my grandma was very different from me and my idea of a typical grandma. When I would walk into her house, she would immediately ask questions like “Ooo where did you get that necklace?” or “Why does your acne look so bad?” instead of my desired “How are you, honey?” As I grew older and continued to recognize the shallow persona of my grandmother, I also began to notice all of the dysfunction she went through in her long life. She maintained a job and helped my grandfather with each of his four campaigns in addition to raising eight children, which she was often alone in doing. My grandma divorced my grandfather while my father was in college, causing a substantial rift in the family and an unresolved hatred towards my grandmother. Due to this resentment aimed at my Gigi, it was an arduous task to get anyone in the family to help take care of her when she had a life-threatening stroke in December of 2018. The job was left to me to bring the family together and care for my grandmother.

Three days before Christmas of last year, my uncle found my Gigi facedown on her bedroom floor. He asked her how she got on the floor and how long she had been there. She responded with a confused, “I’m taking a nap. Leave me alone.” After being hospitalized and put under anesthesia for several hours, she woke up in utter confusion and did not know where she was. Her children, who were notified of their mother’s hospitalization, either could not stay at the hospital or were not willing to go. When I heard the news, I rushed to the hospital. The doctors told me that she endured a severe stroke and would likely be paralyzed on her left side for the remaining years of her life. I immediately felt an overwhelming numbness as I realized her life would never be the same. They showed me her CAT scan and outlined the large gray section that covered her brain. As I stared at it, the damaged section seemed to grow larger and larger. I knew at this moment that my grandma needed me to step up. I promised her I was going to visit as often as I could. She looked up with a crooked smile, and a tear ran down her face. She had a long road ahead of her, and support from her family would prove beneficial. She was placed in the Neurology ICU at Oschner Hospital for five weeks following her stroke. I visited her multiple times per week. In the beginning, she made very little progress. The various tubes going in and out of her body shook me. I would glare at the monitor she was hooked up to and watch her brain experience small seizures several times throughout the night. As time went on, I even began to smell like the hospital smell. This smell reminded me of forgotten people and the loss of hope. I had a long time sitting in her room with her thinking about our relationship. I recalled all of the moments when she has disappointed me or did not seem to care for me. I actively decided that she deserved to be loved in her most difficult moments, no matter how much I felt neglected by her. After a month of being in the Neuro ICU, she was moved to St. Margaret’s rehab center. My Gigi is still recovering here, and I visit her almost every day.

I continue to spend every weekend with my Gigi as she progresses. My decision to be there for her even though she has not always been there for me has taught me the power of love. At the end of the day, I chose to love Gigi during her hardest times even though it was a difficult thing to do, considering our entire relationship. Although it is easy to love people during their good times, it is even more meaningful if you love them through their bad times.