I have lived with my grandma for the past 17 years of my life. She is my rock. She makes me laugh when I have a crappy day, and she makes the worst days, the best days. She can go on and on telling you stories from when she was younger. She dyed her hair orange or blonde, wore red lipstick on the daily, and wore jewelry to the max. She wouldn't go outside without getting dressed up first. She's always been and will always be a social butterfly. Knickerbocker Ave was where everyone knew her. She made friends everywhere. She makes the best rice and beans and pretty much everything. She would always ask you if you ate, God forbid that you say no. Her man crush is Bob Barker. She could spend mindless hours watching the novellas on Univision. My grandma is the best grandma anyone could ask for.

I remember when my mom told me "Grandma has dementia." Grandma has what? Dementia who? I have never even heard that term. I started to look into it. I realized that this was no joke. My emotions went crazy. Fear turned to anger, anger turned into sadness. Many nights were filled with tears, with questioning thoughts. I cursed at God so many times, asking Him why he would do this to my grandma. Why would he put her through this? I kept emotions in, I didn't know who to turn to. Doctors put so much fear into a patient but even more fear into a family. They try to tell us that it'll be okay, but oh yeah she's going to ultimately end up with Alzheimers. Are. You. Kidding. So what you are telling me is that she's going to forget everything she's ever known?

I knew that life was going to be different. Her memory started to fade about 2 and a half years ago. She started to forget that her siblings passed away. She would ask over and over again. That's when we really knew something was wrong. She would question what day it is, what she had eaten before. She just could not comprehend anything. I knew that I really had to step up and watch her. We stopped her from cooking, she would burn everything she put her hands on. We try to keep her away from anything that would hurt her. She's never left alone anymore, we can't leave her alone. What if something would happen to her? I started to feel like the world was against me. Out of all things that could happen, it had to be this?

People started to question our decision on why were keeping her home instead of putting her somewhere that she can get proper care. I would get angry and my eyes would fill with tears. To me, proper care was at home. It was where she knew exactly where she was at and who she was with. Not somewhere that we don't know what she is doing at any given time. I never liked nursing homes. I hear horror stories about those places. You can reassure me that it's a great place, I still refuse to put my grandmother away. She is not some toy you just give to someone else when it's broken. I guess you can say I'm stubborn, maybe even selfish. I still refuse to put her in a home. I have too much love in my heart to do that. I know I can do a sufficient enough job of taking care of her. Recently, she came out of the hospital. That was one of the toughest weeks in my life. Seeing her in pain sucked. It just isn't fair. The doctor criticized us about how we take care of her. I felt like getting in his face and telling him to take care of her. Everyone loves to judge us on what we do, yet they don't know what we go through.

About 914 days later, I'm here writing this. To share what I go through to those who don't fully understand. Caring for someone you love is stressful, sad, tiring. It is also rewarding. It teaches you patience, care. It teaches you how to put others before you and how sometimes you need to sacrifice. I do not regret taking care of my grandma. She has gone above and beyond for me. She is an important part of my life, and quite frankly I don't know what I would do without her.