Recommended by Ricochet Members Created with Sketch. Memories: A Moment

 

It may have been a grey December day like this one, but I don’t remember. It must have been cold because I was wearing my bright red scarf. Did I buy the scarf or was it a gift? I don’t remember. I may have chosen it, although I generally avoid wearing red. It had a luxurious softness that I do remember because on an otherwise unmemorable day, I wore it to visit my grandmother.

She was sitting alone in her room. I remember that she didn’t say hello. She didn’t say anything at all. She didn’t smile, and she didn’t rise to greet me. When I leaned over to hug her, she felt my scarf. She stroked my scarf like an intrigued infant with a new, soft toy that she did not want to give back. Its gentle texture and pleasing bright color held her attention. Or was it that she was trying to acknowledge me?

Later, the nurse noted how calm she had been for the rest of the day. Was she comforted by the scarf, or perhaps she was soothed by my small gesture of affection. Or was it recognition? Even if she couldn’t show it, did she still remember me?

That may have been the last time I saw her alive, but I don’t remember. I remember the scarf and that moment when the woman who cuddled me throughout childhood, who knitted blankets for her family, who rooted tirelessly for the Chicago Cubs, and who held hands with her husband after 54 years of marriage, seemed incapable of remembering me.

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  1. Kay of MT Member

    Thank you for this remembrance, those little things mean so much. I took my mother to see her granddaughter and her new baby. She wasn’t able to express herself due to Alzheimer’s, but she kept trying to say something. She took the baby in her arms, and then with her hand circled it around including all of us and stated: “mine.” We perfectly understood what she meant.

    • #1
    • December 6, 2019, at 10:55 AM PST
    • 14 likes
  2. KentForrester Moderator

    Kay of MT (View Comment):

    Thank you for this remembrance, those little things mean so much. I took my mother to see her granddaughter and her new baby. She wasn’t able to express herself due to Alzheimer’s, but she kept trying to say something. She took the baby in her arms, and then with her hand circled it around including all of us and stated: “mine.” We perfectly understood what she meant.

    Beautiful, Kay. Just beautiful.

    • #2
    • December 6, 2019, at 2:24 PM PST
    • 2 likes
  3. Clifford A. Brown Contributor

    This story provides a different facet of memories linked to an article of clothing. Here a red scarf may have provided a link of memory between the author and her grandmother, where a red jacket provides a link back to his father for Ricochet member @gumbymark

    This post is part of December’s theme: “Memories.” Stop by soon, before the days are all taken!

    • #3
    • December 6, 2019, at 5:08 PM PST
    • 2 likes