Over The Bridge and UpValley

Sunday - To Grandmother's house I go...

Yes, I promised my Grandmother a visit on a Sunday morning after a Saturday night out. So Sunday morning, I was up early and without coffee I braved the freeway and crossed over to the other side. Of the bridge, that is. This would be my first actual, real, sanctioned visit since she's moved to Yountville. Although I couldn't tell you when that was. No, I haven't been the best of granddaughters in the visiting department. But then, having a career had sort of gotten in the way. The Entertainment Industry can do that to you. Swallow you whole and turn your next five years into a daily diatribe of six day weeks and "I can'ts" followed closely by no shows. Truthfully, that wasn't all. As a matter of fact, having grown up had sort of gotten in the way.

While I was growing up, attaining a career, finding love and then successfully losing (it), moving on to a newer life; Grandma was also growing older, retiring, losing her love, and moving into The Veterans Home.The Veterans Home,Yountville, California, Building H to be exact. Kennedy Building to be even more precise.

As I made the left turn off the onramp, a sign directed me away from the town of Yountville and towards the Home. One wrong turn and you could end up on the golf course or even worse in the vineyard to the right. Cautiously, I slowed the Passat to an even fifteen miles an hour. Grandma had warned me many times on the phone that security was relentless about the speed limit within the grounds.

Two more lefts and I would be close to the busstop we were meeting at according to my directions. In front of me was the Abraham Lincoln Recreation Center. I pulled into the parking lot on the right side of the busstop and prepared myself to wait. Grandma, try as she might, set her watch to UGT. Universal Grandma Time and it ran at least a half an hour slower than POP-CORN. Why did I forget that little fact until now? I probably could have slept at least another half an hour if I had accounted for UGT.

Sitting, listening to 102.1, wondering, playing what if; waiting for Grandma. I spotted her walking across the street towards Building H with someone. It had to be her. She was wearing the Tigger jacket I gave her when she and Mom visited for Mother's Day last year. I locked the car with the remote and ran across the road to stop her.

Underneath the bare trees, I hugged her and we waved at her friend walking away. Together, we headed inside her building and up the front staircase. At the top of the stairs, she pointed out three glass cases that held pictures of the occupants of the building. These cases, photos and surrounding paper faded by the sunlight that streamed through the large paned windows behind us. Empty spaces pronounced and obvious due to this discoloration. Even if she hadn't pointed it out to me - the meaning was clear. These were the ones... the people, her friends, who had passed on.

"Can you find mine? I bet you won't recognize me."

She was right.

"Let's take the stairs to my room."

Her room, in a hallway that reminded me of a hospital. Wheelchairs scattered up and down this corridor. I hate hospitals. They scare me. Her room, one door off a corridor of doors spaced too closely together. I hate being crowded. It scares me. Her door, I look up and see a reminder of home. Her door and the two chipmunks that used to be over the fireplace. Familar, reassuring, but still not home. She opens the door. I hate this room. It scares me.

How can this be home? The room, little larger than a moderate sized bathroom. I've seen examining rooms that are larger than this! I've seen apartments in Paris with more square footage! I don't make this remark. I don't make a single sound. Hard to believe, I just wait for Grandma to speak.

She makes the usual remarks...excuse the mess, take a seat...

But its so hard for me to believe that a whole life has been reduced to and lived for to end up in this space. This space that couldn't encompass half of what my grandma is or has done.

I get the grand tour on the way to lunch. They have a communal bathroom, shower, laundry, and even a day room for ironing, cards, TV, etc. There's one on every floor at the end of each hall.

We head down the stairs and across the grounds.