eliana's theory of evolution

Eliana has a pretty fascinating theory of what happens when people age. She thinks that as adults get older, they get smaller. As they get smaller, they need to be taken care of. On the flip side, as she gets older, she gets bigger. Then when she's big, she takes care of the adults who have grown small and who can no longer care for themselves. I never saw Benjamin Button, but maybe it's something like that. Or not.

We've had a fascinating, albeit exhausting, week that explores Eliana's theory. We've been living up in the big house with Pop Pop while Nana's away in Portland. The time away is very important for Nana and I certainly understand more than ever now why. Morty has Alzheimer's. He's 86. And while we've thought it was more of a label for an already aging man, I have to say that after these past five days, I've certainly seen things a bit more clearly.

Jeff's dad is an extremely strong, extremely sharp, extremely sassy man. Over a game of Scrabble the first night I met him, he told me when I was taking too long to take my turn to, "Shit or get off the pot already!" He's lived in New Jersey his whole life. He flew fighter planes in World War II. Was a self-made, extremely successful business man. For most of my thirteen year history with Jeff, I've always thought his dad was older, but totally with it, cool and savvy and tough.

This diagnosis came a few years back. And I think we've pretty much been denial of it up until recently. And while it certainly isn't as rough as it could be -- and I don't even want to go there -- it's rough. And it fits Eliana's theory. He needs us to take care of him. He needs her to take care of him.

There was a moment when we were loading up in the car after dinner the other night. We were all on a busy street downtown. I was holding the baby, Eliana was running up and down the sidewalk, Jeff was finishing up with the bill inside. Pop wandered off the curb and tried to get in the back door of the car. There was a carseat in the way. He looked confused, looked like he may wander into the road. I called for Elie. I need you to stand right here in front of the car. I need you to help Pop Pop get back on the sidewalk. Show him where his door is.

There she was in a flash, just like that, to help. She is getting smarter and more articulate by the day. Her sweetness is surfacing again. She loves her Grandpa and runs to him and gives him a big hug every morning when he wakes. She loves to talk about her theory. Pop Pop's getting older and sometimes he gets confused. But that's okay, because I'm getting bigger and I can take care of him when he gets small!

There's an intensity to this time. A sweetness. A level of exhaustion. Sol continues to wake multiple times during the night, his teeth popping up like daffodils in spring. I know this whole night waking thing would be way easier if I stopped nursing him but I can't even go there. Nor can I go to his birthday that is less than two weeks away. But for now, we're heavy in the moment.

Last night Sol was fussing before bed. Morty gets really agitated when the baby is sad and has a particularly hard time making sense of things in the evenings. I took Sol into the downstairs bedroom to nurse and lay to sleep. Pop Pop wandered in. When I asked what was going on he told me he was just trying to get to Newark. Oh this intricate, tangled web of a life we lead. From lost babies to lost men, all of us just trying to find our way.