Adventures in Alzheimer's: The Rumpus Room

The cut of my jib and my dog Lakaya. 1972

The first day I met Grampy he hollered at me and made me cry. I was standing at his front door; a wide-eyed, eager to please teenager who didn't know any better than to ring the bell and awaken the beast. I don't know if he was just upset that I'd interrupted his TV show by making him come to the door, or if he just didn't care for the cut of my jib. But he hollered at me. His wife, Bernie, compounded the drama when she took one look at me and loudly cussed him out for making me cry. 

Since then I've learned to toughen my hide around him and take 80% of what he says with a grain of salt. Make that 95%. I've been his daughter-in-law over 40 years now...so that's a lot of salt. From time to time since 1970, he's felt it necessary to point out the obvious to me. He tells me if my macaroni and cheese is sub par, how my parenting and grandparenting skills are sorely lacking, and every so often he takes a good look at me and asks "When the hell did you get fat?" 

This was the old man in 1972. He seemed so old to me then...

When it came to raising his boys, back in the dark ages of the 1950s and 60s, he was a firm believer in "Do as I say or meet the business end of my belt". He verbally and physically beat each of his three boys whenever they erred --up until they grew big enough to cuss back and knock him to the ground...which they all eventually did. He wasn't what you'd call "user-friendly" when it came to fatherhood.

His wife, my mother in law Bernie, wasn't much of a fan of mine either. I kid you not when I say that Bernie once smiled sweetly at my mother and said "Cathy isn't much of a housekeeper, is she?" Of course that went over well with mom. In my defense I have to say that I really am a good housekeeper. 

Alright...I'm OK. 

Shut up.

I have to add, however, that Grampy has been willing to lend a hand or two at times when we needed him. It was 1990. We lived in a 3 bedroom, 1100 sf home in the burbs; three teenage children, Mike, me, a dog and a cat, and we were quite cozy. Especially when the kids brought friends over. 

Me and Grampy 2015. You gotta love him.

Grampy drove out in his truck from Laughlin one day and volunteered to turn our garage into a rumpus room. He was a master-builder and we had some savings so we quickly took him up on the offer. He stayed with us about two months while he worked on that room. He frowned at the kids for being loud, glared at their friends for ....well just being their friends, and reprimanded all of them for not eating their vegetables. But they tolerated him well and he did a fantastic job—even built us a separate laundry room.  He built that rumpus room "Armageddon-proof" and it looked beautiful. After some furniture, carpeting and wallpaper It quickly became our hang-out and I was grateful for the extra breathing room.

After he was done with the room, and as he was getting into his truck to head home to Nevada he told me, point-blank and in all seriousness, "You have a real nice house now that I've fixed it up." He then glared at my 15 year old son Shane who was making faces at me behind my back and said "give me those three grandkids of mine for a couple weeks and I'll straighten them out too....Think about it." And he left. 

I'm still thinking about it...