Great-Grandma's Hands

We went to your Great-Grandma's home today to celebrate a late Christmas with family. You're Great-Grandma's name is Wanda and she was born in 1921. Her mind is fading. She's losing who she was. Her age is taking her back to who she was as an infant. It hurts her to feel helpless, I can see it in her eyes, even though at times they appear blank. Maybe the look is not really blank, I think perhaps she is looking into a distance that we cannot see. She is closer to the place where you have gone to than the rest of us. She cries when we leave everytime. I think that it may be because she does not know if it will be the last time she sees us or the last time she remembers us. She was happy today because her children and their children and their children were there with her in the tiny house where she spends so much time alone. She smiled at the playing children the entire time, she watched them and didn't say words. She watched. I hope she remembers it. She told me that she was tired, I said that she would have to take a nap after everyone left. I played with the veins in her hands as I always have. She smiled and asked if they were the same, I noticed that some of the veins seemed smaller, but I told her that they would always be the same. Those veins hold the same blood as all of the children in the room. Her veins hold the same blood that moved from me to you Frost. She is our beginning Frost.
I often wonder what a person whose mind is leaving them dreams of. Are the dreams lost? Or are they clear visions of futures and pasts; visions that hold who each of us becomes. I wonder what Great-Grandma will dream of tonight. Maybe she will dream of meeting you someday Frost, and watching you play.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.