Page 78 of Loving London

“I’m sure it’s going to be strange, seeing him, especially since he won’t know me. But a selfish part of me is glad that I have a living family member even if just physically. Is that horrible?”

She shakes her head. “No, of course not. I understand. He’s still your granddad, and he’s alive. That’s exciting.”

The nursing home is two hours north of the cottage even though it seems further. I’m relieved when we finally arrive.

We check in at the front desk, and a few minutes later, someone comes to get us.

“Hello, I’m Nancy, one of the nurses who works with Mr. Berkeley.”

I like Nancy immediately. With her bright eyes and warm smile, I can tell that she’s one of those people who’s everyone’s friend. It makes me feel good, knowing that Granddad gets to see her happy face every day.

“So, you’re the grandson?”

“Yes. I live in the United States.” I explain to Nancy a little about my past and how I just found out yesterday that my granddad was alive.

London and I follow Nancy as she walks down a hallway. “Well, I’m glad you came. Mr. Berkeley hasn’t had a visitor in years. Have you been around someone with Alzheimer’s before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, the main thing to understand is that he won’t know you, so don’t take it personally. That’s just the way it is with Alzheimer’s patients. Most days, Mr. Berkeley doesn’t speak at all. Every now and again, he’s lucid enough to talk, but what he says doesn’t normally make any sense to the rest of us. You can talk to him, of course. We’re not sure how much our patients can understand—the reality is, probably not much—but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“How long can someone live with Alzheimer’s?” I ask.

“The average is ten years past diagnosis. However, it varies. Truthfully, your grandfather has survived more years than most. It’s difficult. His mind has gone, but his body refuses to. He doesn’t appear to be in any physical pain or mental anguish, which is the best we can hope for.” She smiles. “There he is.” She points to a man sitting in a chair by the window in what appears to be a large living room area. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be around.”

I look to London. She entwines her fingers through mine, and we walk toward my granddad. Releasing her hand, I pull up two chairs and set them in front of him.

He looks the same, like the man from the pictures I vaguely remember, but older and paler. His hair is now completely gray, and his face wears more wrinkles. I feel a weak yet familiar pull toward him. I’m not sure what I expected, but I hoped for a strong, real connection. I want my heart to know he’s family and to feel something, anything.

He doesn’t acknowledge us sitting in front of him.

“Just talk. Tell him about yourself,” London urges in a whisper.

“Hi, Granddad. It’s me, Loïc, your grandson.”

I look to my granddad and wait. He doesn’t move his stare from the window.

I turn my head to face London.

“I know,” she says gently. “But we don’t know what he understands, so just keep talking. Tell him stories about your life.”

“Okay.” I nod.

I’ve craved a familial connection for so long, but the man before me isn’t the same as the one I remember. He isn’t laughing, making jokes, or driving Nan crazy. He’s not doing anything, and it’s unsettling.

Yet I do as London suggested. I talk.

I pretend that my granddad is listening and able to care. He’s not the same man I hoped to see, but maybe deep down, part of that man still lives.

There’s a chance he hears me. So, I tell him about being in the military. I talk about meeting Sarah while in foster care and how she’s become like a sister to me. I smile big when I mention Evan. I glance at London with nothing but affection in my eyes as I tell this man all about the woman I love and how we’re going to get married.

Through it all, he never looks at me or shows signs of knowing that I’m there. This interaction leaves me with a slight sadness in my heart.

“I don’t know what else to say,” I tell London.

“Oh, I know! I’ll tell him how you proposed.”

London turns to my granddad and goes on and on with so much excitement, telling him every detail of the proposal. Well, at least up to the point when she said yes. He doesn’t need to know what happened after that.

---