The Great Grandchild Prescription

It did not start out a good day.  She forgot how to make the small turn from a standing position; this is necessary to land squarely in the wheelchair.  "My feet won't move," she said with difficulty, perplexed.  I think:  Maybe it's temporary.  Maybe it's permanent. 

After breakfast I handed her the small paintbrush she has been using these past weeks, and I gently suggest she complete a butterfly painting.  She did not know what she held in her  hand.  Turning it over in her fingers, she was utterly puzzled.  "What is this?" she mumbled.  She leaned over staring hard at ever centimeter of the small brush waiting for understanding.

Some of my siblings were arriving later for a visit, bringing with them grown grandchildren and a clutch of small great-grandchildren.  I had held high hopes for a great visit,  but Myrtle was in a fog that was worse than usual.  She was lost and benumbed in her confusion.  I tried everything to help her get a bead on the day but all morning she just sat and stared at things.

Then the happy wave of children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren arrived.   Her delight was boundless.  She laughed.  Her energy returned.  She was enchanted by their antics; her day and her spirit were thoroughly transformed.   No pill,  no activity, no tv program, and no adult could have accomplished what the collective frivolity of babies and children achieved .... effortlessly.

This Mother's Day weekend it was a true gift to watch these little, little people playfully steal victory from the jaws of defeat.  Myrtle's multi-generational blessings slayed the dementia for the duration of their visit and led the festivities with ease.

They came and they sprinkled stardust, they truly did.