Introductions of a Sort

I've been my grandmother's caretaker for about nine months now, and I only just now thought of writing a bloggy-memoir thing. 

My name is Brittany (or "Bárbara," as in Spanish for barbarous, depending on how my Gramma feels about my caretaking skills at that present moment). And she is my Gramma "Olia." I'm 24 and she's 90. I got married February 2014, (I know, "Go me!") and Gramma Olia wasn't able to go because she fell very ill :( She got a bit better but had to stay in a nursing home for some time. Eventually she got a lot a bit better and she was free to go home, provided that she had a care-taker since the doctors said she should no longer stay home alone. My mother is the household provider for herself and my Gramma and my younger sister who is studying to be a Mechanical Engineer...so that she can one day take care of all of us! (...only kidding, Sissy. Take care of just me. :D ) Well anywho, that being the case, my mother could not be a stay-at-home-care-taker. Gramma Olia had 8 children. One is now in heaven, one is in California, one is my mother, and so that leaves five. Three of whom are retired...but they could not come and be my Gramma's care-giver either :( Longer story shorter, the week Gramma Olia was finally released to go home, I lost my job, and voila. 

Nine months of lessons later, we are here, Gramma & Me, the new duo, sitting here, Gramma eating a small cup of sugar-free ice cream (she is diabetic), me typing this, and Gramma constantly asking, "What are you typing there?" We are here together, for better and for worse, but mostly for my better--I've learned a lot. (Just another paranthetical, since Gramma Olia is doing phenomenally better, I'm re-looking for a job if you happen to want to offer one, okay good.) 

Now don't let the title mislead you. Gramma Olia is almost basically an angel on Earth. She's the type of little lady that wishes for you to "have a good day...in Jesus' name;" reads her Bible every morning without fail and kisses the passages when she's done; she's never not thankful for whatever goodness is in her life; and she holds firmly to the fact that both knowledge and wisdom come exclusively through aging. Yes, she is wonderful. So why call her "Huerquita"? Well, I call her that playfully so (granted, not to her knowledge) because she's also the type of little lady that will eat only two bites out of the three small slices of pizza I gave her because, well, those were the only spots that had pepperonis; she'll selectively choose to remember things like seeing that you bought Reese's Pieces Peanut Buttercups on an HEB receipt and continually ask where they are because she cannot find them, but choose not to remember to put in her hearing aids; and depending on whether I am trying to give her a snack or her medicines, she'll selectively choose whether or not to hear me. 

But God loves her and so I love her, and I think I'll write this almost diurnally, because I do learn something from her or through her everyday, and maybe I should stop taking that for granted. And because I think she's pretty funny.