Valuable lessons my grandmother taught me

I just saw the trailer for "The Father" on Instagram, starring Sir Anthony Hopkins, Olivia Colman, and Frederick Sewall. At first, I thought it was a movie about elder abuse, something that's far too common in our society, but as the story progressed, I realized it was about a man with Alzheimer's or dementia.

The conversations, the heartbreak, the sadness, constant state of alert, fear and isolation, immediately resonated with me. When I was in my early 20s, my grandmother started forgetting things-- at first, we chalked it up to her being 85. But within a few years, the lapses in memory moved beyond a cute senior moment to concerning. 

For the next 10 years, my mother, sister, and I took care of her. Each day was a battle with brief interludes of ceasefire and clarity. My grandmother would forget who we were and started reverting to her mother tongues, Armenian and Turkish. She traveled back to the source of trauma and accused of horrible war crimes-- things I imagined she swore she'd take to the grave before the veil of darkness swallowed her. 

After the cognitive decline came the loss of motor functions-- forgetting how to eat, wash her hands, and all the other 'simple' daily 'obligations' we take for granted. 

My grandmother, a woman who had survived WWI, WWII, and civil war, didn't have the greatest cards dealt. She had to leave everything behind and move the US in her 40s with two kids and a husband stripped of his citizenship. I can't imagine what was running through her head: Where will we live? How will I learn English? Will I find a job?

Despite losing her father at the age of four, living with her grandmother and aunt (who at times were likened to Lemony Snicket villains) and two sisters so her mother could work, my grandmother was a diehard optimist and never failed to see the silver lining. My mother and I joke, they don't make her model anymore.

If my grandmother's taught me anything, it's resiliency. But it's not a hardboiled callous type; a softer, lighthearted resiliency with a subtle glow around the edges. As a daughter of divorce and diaspora, I've had to endure my fair share of challenges, but I'm honored and humbled to have such a larger-than-life woman to evoke when things get hard and seem hopeless.

I've always had a soft spot for older people. I grew up with three out of four of my grandparents living nearby and eventually under the same roof. I also spent a lot of time abroad where older people live at home with their extended families.

Today, I'm thinking about the old woman who lived at my grandmother's complex with a sweet cotton-white poodle. I'm thinking about the man with the Tolkien beard, shoveling gait, and breathing pile of newspapers. 

Alone or with family, older people are tragically misrepresented, ignored, or even 'leperized' in fountain-of-youth culture.

So you're probably thinking: What's the point of this meandering rant? 

• Be kinder to older people. Give them a call, send them a card, let them know you care. 
• If you have a senior family member experiencing cognitive decline, get mental health counseling-- I wish I had. 
• Fight for more social safety nets. So many seniors have food insecurities. They shouldn't have to scrutinize every cent they spend. 
• Don't miss out on opportunities to connect with your grandparents, parents, and older family members. You'll miss them when they're gone.
• Volunteer. COVID-19 has made life incredibly hard for seniors cut off from places of worship and community centers. Whether it's donating food, video calls to keep seniors company, or just checking in on elderly neighbors, there are countless ways to be involved. 

Get the cake recipe. It will never be the same as grandma's, but you'll have a lifetime to maybe one day get it right.