Last weekend, my mom and I had my nephew for a couple of days. Since he is accustomed to sleeping with his mama, sleeping in his bed at my mom's house is no longer an option.

SO.

I crawled into bed with the already sleeping two year old (who insisted on having his back scratched before falling asleep. I have NO CLUE where he got that from. See my halo?), and he was still for all of 40 mins. I got slapped, punched, kicked, snuggled with, and pushed to the edge of the bed. I think I slept maybe an hour the entire night.

The next morning, my mom opened the bedroom door, he bound out all happy and in a great mood, and I stayed in bed hoping to sleep a bit. Instead, all I heard was shouts of, "Apul! Apul, where are you?" It was too cute to ignore, so I stumbled to the kitchen.

I love to listen to him talk now. I know those of you with toddlers are used to this, but it amazes me that you can actually hold somewhat of a conversation with him.

We were in the car on the way to visit my grandparents. I leaned my head against the window and declared, "I'm sleepy." He said, "I seepy too. I need nap." AWWWW. Little snot.

My uncle handed him a 5 dollar bill (WTH? I got a dollar mostly when I was a kid.). I told him to say thank you and he did. Then when we were leaving, without being prompted, he said in his two year old speak, "Thank you for money!" I was so proud!

Man, I love that boy.

Today would have been my great-grandmother's 102nd birthday. She passed away 12 years ago from that horrible disease that robbed her of her mind.

I can't imagine not knowing who I am or who the people around me are. I'm certain that she had to be scared. In fact, I know she was because the last time I visited her, all memories of me were forgotten, and my mere presence caused her to be so uneasy, that I left her room and went and sat in the car.

My family now looks back at a few of the things that happened and now we can laugh. Time has allowed us to see the humor in some of the situations.

Like the time she tried to hit my mom over the head with a nut bowl and called her a little shit. I had no clue my great-grandmother, who went to church every Sunday, even knew those types of words.

Or the day that she forgot me completely, she looked at me through narrowed eyes, and said to everyone else in the room, "You have to be careful with that one. She's a sneaky one, she is."

Alzheimer's is a horrible, horrible disease that is hard on everyone close to the situation, and those are times I will never forget, but I have found now that her things, things she left to us are what gives me comfort.

Like her hens and chicks that sit by my feet on my front porch right now. Or the start from her lilac bush that is in my back yard. Or the few little knick knacks that I got when we cleaned out her house.

I think my most favorite of all is the fact that a few years after her death, my grandmother and I were swinging on the big front porch swing she has, and she happened to glance down at my feet. She said, "You know you have Mom's feet. Her big toe sat slightly under her 2nd toe just like yours does."

And I looked at her and smiled.