My grandmother was diagnosed with the early stages of Alzheimers disease when I was in fifth grade. At that point in my life， I was a kid. I was selfish as all kids are， so I didnt think twice about it. I had no idea how it would eventually affect my life， as well as my family， in such a large way.

I have a very tight-knit family， and my grammy is the glue that holds us together. I remember going to my grandparents farmhouse every chance I could when I was a kid. My grammy would always make me chocolate milk and a Fluffer-Nutter sandwich. We would watch Winnie the Pooh movies and color—my grammy and I both love the smell of a new box of crayons. Sometimes， if I were lucky， she would take me to the barn to feed the calves or to see the new kittens. Little did I know， that these would be the childhood memories I would miss most of all.

As I grew up， I noticed my grammy changing. At first， it was just little things. She would forget where she set her book， or she couldnt find her purse. Once again， I didnt think it was serious. I could never have guessed how it would progress， transforming my grammy into someone I could hardly recognize.

There was one incident in particular that was my wake-up call. I remember thinking， “This isnt a joke， and my grammy isnt my grammy anymore. This is a serious disease.”

About three years ago， a tornado went through our town. Although it was heading straight for my grandparentsfarmhouse， it died down before destroying my childhood sanctuary. My father and I went to visit my grandparents the day after the storm， just to make sure they were okay. I went inside to find grammy. I gave her a hug and took my regular seat on the couch across from her. We passed the time by talking for hours on end， about anything and everything that was on our minds. The power was out， and it got dark in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

Then， Grammy turned to me， and with empty eyes that stared right past me， asked， “Now youre graduating this year， arent you？” I was a freshman， so I was confused why she was asking me about graduation. Grammy was the type of person who could tell you the exact date and time when every one of her grandchildren came into this world. Her innocent question caught me off guard. I assured her that no， I was not yet a senior; I still had a few years until graduation， and casually moved the conversation along.

Soon， my father asked if I was ready to go home. I silently nodded my head yes， and we headed out. As soon as I got into the car， I started to cry. My father asked me what was wrong， and all I could manage to blurt out was， “Is grammy going to be at my graduation？”

It took him a long time to come up with a response， and when he finally did， I heard the sadness in his voice. “Yes. She may not know where she is， but she will be there， no matter what.” I looked at my father， and I saw a tear running down his cheek. I had never seen him cry. The rest of the car ride home was silent. When we finally arrived home， I went straight to my room. I locked my door and I cried for hours. That night made me realize that things were going to start changing fast.

Ever since that talk with my grammy， I have matured and stepped up. Her Alzheimers has progressed to about stage 3 now. She is at the point that she cant see what is directly in front of her. When I see her get that look that says， “I dont know where I am or what I am doing，” its my automatic response to help her by getting her a plate of food or easing her into a chair.

At first， I didnt notice the strange looks I got from the other members of my family. Then， last summer， when I was cutting grammys food at a family picnic， I looked up and saw all my aunts， uncles and cousins looking at me. I just ignored them for the moment and went back to helping grammy. Later on， I asked my mother why they looked at me like that. She explained that they still picture my grandmother as the one who takes care of everyone else. They had not yet realized that the roles had switched; after years of being the sole caregiver of the family， she was the one who needed their help.

Now， I have a better understanding of Alzheimers disease. My grammys deterioration has had a huge impact on my family and has put a lot of stress on us all. It greatly upsets me to know that one day grammy will no longer be able to look at me and say， “That is my granddaughter， Kayla.”

At my graduation， when I am sitting on the stage waiting to receive my diploma， I will look out over the crowded gym and see grammy there， sitting with the rest of my family. She may not understand what is going on， but she will be there. After the ceremony， I will find grammy in the huge swarm of people， and I will hug her. I know she will forget me someday， but I am not dwelling on that fact. For now， I try to cherish the good days and to get through the bad days as best I can. She will always be my grammy and I will always be her granddaughter.

我上五年級(jí)時(shí)，奶奶被診斷出患有阿爾茨海默病，病情仍處于早期。那時(shí)我還小。我和所有孩子一樣自私，所以我并沒(méi)有把這件事放在心上。我也不曾想過(guò)這個(gè)病會(huì)對(duì)我的生活、我的家庭產(chǎn)生如此大的影響。

我家人之間的關(guān)系非常緊密，這都是因?yàn)槲夷棠蹋前盐覀冞B接在一起的黏合劑。記得小時(shí)候，一有機(jī)會(huì)我就會(huì)去爺爺奶奶的農(nóng)場(chǎng)玩。奶奶總會(huì)給我做巧克力牛奶和花生醬三明治。我們會(huì)一起看《小熊維尼》電影以及涂色——我和奶奶都喜歡滿盒子新蠟筆的味道。有時(shí)候，幸運(yùn)的話，奶奶會(huì)帶我去畜棚喂小?；蛘呖磩偝錾男∝垺Ｎ覜](méi)有想到，這些事情會(huì)成為我最懷念的童年回憶。

隨著我漸漸長(zhǎng)大，我慢慢注意到了奶奶的變化。剛開(kāi)始，只是一些小事情。她會(huì)忘記把書(shū)放在哪里，或者找不到錢(qián)包。再一次地，我并不覺(jué)得這有什么大不了的。但我怎么也想不到這個(gè)病會(huì)越來(lái)越嚴(yán)重，把奶奶變成一個(gè)我?guī)缀醪徽J(rèn)得的人。

一件事尤其給我敲響了警鐘。記得我當(dāng)時(shí)是這樣想的：“這不是開(kāi)玩笑的，奶奶不再是原來(lái)的奶奶了。她得了重病?！?/p>

大約三年前，一場(chǎng)龍卷風(fēng)侵襲了我們的鎮(zhèn)子。盡管這場(chǎng)龍卷風(fēng)朝著我爺爺奶奶的農(nóng)場(chǎng)進(jìn)發(fā)，但在到達(dá)前就已消停，我的童年圣地沒(méi)有遭到破壞。龍卷風(fēng)過(guò)后的第二天，為了確認(rèn)爺爺奶奶都沒(méi)事，我和爸爸去看望了他們。我走進(jìn)屋里找奶奶，給了她一個(gè)擁抱，便在她對(duì)面的沙發(fā)坐了下來(lái)，這是我一貫的位子。我們連續(xù)聊了好幾個(gè)小時(shí)，想到什么就聊什么。聊著聊著，突然停電了，沒(méi)過(guò)幾分鐘周圍就暗了下來(lái)。

然后，奶奶轉(zhuǎn)向我，眼神空洞地盯著我的后方，問(wèn)道：“你今年就要畢業(yè)了，是嗎？”我才剛讀大一。我很困惑為什么她會(huì)問(wèn)我畢業(yè)的事。奶奶是個(gè)能準(zhǔn)確說(shuō)出她每個(gè)孫子孫女的出生日期和時(shí)間的人，我被她這個(gè)莫名其妙的問(wèn)題問(wèn)得措手不及。我告訴她不是的，我還沒(méi)讀大四，要過(guò)幾年才畢業(yè)，然后便胡亂地轉(zhuǎn)移了話題。

沒(méi)過(guò)多久，爸爸過(guò)來(lái)問(wèn)我準(zhǔn)備要回家了沒(méi)。我默默地點(diǎn)點(diǎn)頭，和爸爸走了出去。我一上車就哭了起來(lái)。爸爸問(wèn)我發(fā)生什么事了，我只能竭力說(shuō)出：“奶奶會(huì)參加我的畢業(yè)典禮嗎？”

爸爸久久沒(méi)有回答，當(dāng)他終于開(kāi)口時(shí)，我從他的聲音中聽(tīng)到了悲傷?！皶?huì)的。她也許不知道自己在哪里，但無(wú)論如何，她一定會(huì)到場(chǎng)的?！蔽铱粗职?，淚水劃過(guò)他的臉龐。我以前從未見(jiàn)過(guò)他落淚。接下來(lái)的車程里，我們都沉默不語(yǔ)。到家后，我直奔房間，鎖上門(mén)，哭了好幾個(gè)小時(shí)。那晚發(fā)生的事讓我意識(shí)到，很快，一切都將變得不同于往日。

自從那次與奶奶聊天過(guò)后，我就變得成熟、上進(jìn)起來(lái)。現(xiàn)在她的阿爾茨海默病已經(jīng)發(fā)展到了第三個(gè)階段。在這個(gè)階段，她對(duì)眼前的事物置若罔聞。當(dāng)我看到她那種“我不知道我在哪里或者我在做什么”的神情，我就會(huì)自覺(jué)地幫她裝食物或者扶她坐到椅子上。

剛開(kāi)始，我沒(méi)有注意到其他家庭成員看我的奇怪眼神。然后，去年夏天，在一次家庭野餐上，當(dāng)我?guī)湍棠糖惺澄飼r(shí)，我一抬頭就看到所有的叔叔阿姨、兄弟姐妹們都在看著我，我當(dāng)時(shí)沒(méi)有理會(huì)他們，而是繼續(xù)幫助奶奶。過(guò)后，我問(wèn)媽媽為什么他們這樣看著我。她向我解釋，他們只是依然把奶奶當(dāng)成是照顧大家的角色。他們還沒(méi)有意識(shí)到角色已經(jīng)互換了。奶奶在獨(dú)自照顧了這個(gè)大家庭這么多年后，現(xiàn)在她需要大家的幫助。

現(xiàn)在，我對(duì)阿爾茨海默病有了更深刻的了解。奶奶病情的惡化對(duì)我們家產(chǎn)生了巨大的影響，也給我們帶來(lái)了很大的壓力。我知道，總有一天，奶奶將再也不能看著我對(duì)別人說(shuō)，“那是我孫女，凱拉?！边@讓我感到很傷心。

在我畢業(yè)那天，當(dāng)我坐在舞臺(tái)上，等待領(lǐng)取畢業(yè)證書(shū)時(shí)，我的視線將會(huì)越過(guò)體育館里擁擠的人群，看到我和奶奶和其他家庭成員坐在一起。她也許不明白發(fā)生了什么事，但她會(huì)到場(chǎng)。畢業(yè)典禮結(jié)束后，我會(huì)在蜂擁的人群里找到奶奶，然后給她一個(gè)擁抱。我知道有一天她會(huì)忘記我，但我不會(huì)為此苦惱。現(xiàn)在，我努力珍惜那些美好的日子，盡力度過(guò)那些糟糕的日子。她永遠(yuǎn)都是我的奶奶，我也永遠(yuǎn)都是她的孫女。