Paula Marie Hayertz

This week, Jen read us a memoir about losing her grandmother. My own grandmother passed away about a month and a half ago; Monday would have been her 91st birthday.

The last few years of my grandma's life were not pleasant, for her or for us. She suffered severely from Alzheimer's, which worsened significantly after my Grandpa's passing in August of 2011. She rarely knew who we were-she often thought my brother was my uncle-and argued if we tried to tell her otherwise. She was also frequently frightened and confused, thinking she was back in Germany during World War II. Due to her severe disease, her passing was more of a blessing. The loving, fun, wonderful woman my Grandma was died years ago with her mind; this was only her body.

But things weren't always like that, as my brother reminded us all at her funeral. Years ago, my grandparents` house was the greatest place ever. Going to Grandma's was the greatest of treats. There were books to color, games to play, and freshly baked goods.

Looking back now, I can pinpoint when we started to lose her. About six years ago, my brother brought his girlfriend (now his wife), Sarah, to Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa's for the first time. Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa's was a huge tradition in our family. Sarah had bought a sweater for my Grandma. When a she opened it, she smiled and said "This is such a lovely sweater. I think I'll wear it next time I go out with my German friends." Sarah told her she was welcome, and we continued to open our gifts.

A few minutes later, she repeated, "This is such a lovely sweater. I think I'll wear it next time I go out with my German friends." We looked at her, smiled, and continued on. Again, she repeated a few minutes later, "This is such a lovely sweater. I think I'll wear it next time I go out with my German friends." We all laughed, and she smiled. The fourth time she repeated it, it started to become a joke. We'd ask her what Sarah had given her, if she liked it, and where she'd wear it. I remember we were all in tears laughing, her and my grandpa included. She laughed because we were laughing, and she was so happy to have family there.

It became apparent soon after that it was no longer funny. But we'd all forgotten how wonderful my Grandma used to be, before she succumbed to that terrible disease. I miss my Grandma, who she used to be. But I'm glad she's no longer frightened or in pain; she's at peace.

This is a picture of my Grandma and me at my third birthday party.