by Yvonne Donlon

Created on: July 24, 2009

AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING...

In those several months after my father passed away and before my grandmother finally decided to move in with Mom, I would drive down to Lewisburg to see Gramma for day visits. The young mind, left alone too much, without someone with which to talk, walk or plan days, or even argue, is in danger of deterioration. How much more so the elderly mind? To keep a mind sharp it has to be used, and that includes exercising the synapses that bring thought to mouth and out into the air as conversation. These exercises of conversation are as important to the health of a mind as are physical exercise to the body. My grandfather's dementia increased when he lived alone and could no longer drive himself out and about. Thus, my day trips to Gramma's house.

Over the mountains and through the woods, to Grandmother's house I drove two or three days a week. We would go down to Mattie's Coffee Shop and have a nice big mug of Mountain Mud, Mattie's signature coffee. Sitting at the outdoor tables, we would watch people and things, and have conversations of all topics. We laughed, joked, and told stories. She asked questions - she is full of questions these days. And I would answer. And then, more often than not, a spark would ignite a thought in her brain and she would tell me stories of her life.

I've always thought it odd how the older mind associates itself more with the younger days than with, oh, the previous week even. It's truly as if life is a circle where the older you get the closer you are to your younger self than you are to the middle-aged person you were.

On one of my visits, she was in a particularly trifling mood. Trifling is her word. Mine would have been complaining. But, again, when you spend too much time alone, some things get bottled up for release upon the first person willing to sit long enough to hear it. Like steam from a kettle, or damaged tissue in the body, they have to come out or risk damaging their containers.

So I listened to her complaints about aging for hours sitting outside the coffee shop. There might be a lot of issues I could fix, but I can't do anything about her aging. It's happening. Despite her assertion that day that it had only begun six months before that, it had, in fact, been happening for some time. I listened to her rant of the travails of aging. Some of the things she said were poignant and philosophical, and some were all that and a laugh riot. I did laugh out loud a lot at what she said. The

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