Despite her attempts to be strong, I could see the embarrassment in my grandma Rosa’s eyes when she was sent to the hospital. She detested the thin hospital gown that hardly concealed her dignity and the feeling of vulnerability.
She mumbled, pulling at the fabric, “I look ridiculous.” “Like an old bat with wrinkles.”
I told her, “Grandma, you look fine,” but she simply crossed her arms and turned her head away.
As visiting hours were coming to an end that evening, I had a thought. I sneaked out, located a nurse, and requested an additional gown. Despite raising an eyebrow, she gave it to him.
I returned to Grandma’s room five minutes later, still dressed in the same ugly gown. I spun a little with my arms out. “We’re matching now.”
Before she could chuckle, her face twisted in bewilderment. The kind of belly laughs that rocked her fragile body. It had been weeks since I had heard that sound.
“You’re crazy, child,” she whimpered.
“It runs in the family,” I retorted.
Grandma stopped fussing with her gown that night for the first time since she had been admitted. She didn’t attempt to use the blanket to hide herself. She simply lay there grinning at me as if we were sharing a secret.
However, it wasn’t until the following day that a nurse pulled me away with tears in her eyes that I realized how much that little moment meant to her.
I scowled. “Is everything all right?”
Dabbing at the corners of her eyes, she gave a short nod. “I was simply wondering what you did last night. That was really lovely.
Suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, I shrugged. It didn’t matter. Just a dumb joke to get her to chuckle.
The nurse gave a headshake. It wasn’t insignificant. Ever since she arrived, your grandmother has changed. She hardly speaks to the other patients, rejects assistance, and doesn’t want to eat much. However, she was different today.
I looked curiously toward Grandma’s room.
The nurse went on to say, “She allowed one of the aides to help her brush her hair this morning.” During breakfast, she really made a joke with another patient. She seems to have released some of the burden she had been bearing. And I believe you are to blame.
That struck me in a surprising way. Perhaps I hadn’t recognized the extent to which her embarrassment was impacting her, but I had only been attempting to lift her spirits.
She had a smug little look on her face as she flipped through an old magazine while sitting up in bed when I entered her room.
Sitting next to her, I taunted, “Well, well.” “I’ve heard that you’re now making friends.”
She gave a snort. “Don’t overthink things. I just informed Mr. Romano across the hall that the nicest thing I’ve seen this week is his bald spot.
I chuckled. “That seems about correct.”
She touched my hand as she reached out. “I appreciate last night, child. You have no idea how much that meant to me.
A gentle rap on the door cut us off before I could respond. Possibly in her seventies, a woman peered in.
Hello, Rosa. With hesitation, the woman said, “I was wondering if you’d like to join us for the afternoon tea social in the lounge.” “Obviously, there is no pressure; I just thought it might be nice.”
Instead of dismissing her, Grandma gave me a sidelong glance, which surprised me.
I raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead, Grandma. Show them the proper way to do it.
She let out a big sigh and put her magazine down. “All right, but I’m going to riot if they serve those terrible sugar-free cookies again.”
The woman laughed. “All right.”
I rose up to follow Grandma as she slowly stood up with the nurse’s assistance, but she gave me a stern look and stopped me.
“You know, you don’t have to watch me.”
I grinned. “Are you certain? I could borrow an additional hospital gown to finish the ensemble.
Despite rolling her eyes, she continued to laugh. “Just avoid trouble while I’m away.”
I saw her stroll down the corridor with her head lifted slightly higher and her shoulders somewhat straighter.
She had a different enthusiasm when she returned that evening. lighter. More of herself.
She sat down on the bed and declared, “They had real cookies.” No more of that sugar-fake bullshit. The tea was also good.
I smiled. “It seems like a five-star evaluation.”
After nodding, she paused, running her fingertips over the edge of her blanket. “You understand… Something must have slipped my mind. I lost sight of how much life was still going on around me because I was too preoccupied with feeling sorry for myself.
The lump in my throat was swallowed. “You can always get back into it at any time.”
With a strong, warm grip, she patted my hand once again. “You know you’re a good kid?”
My chest felt full on the inside, but I shrugged.
Grandma spent an additional week in the hospital. In order to elicit a rise out of Mr. Romano, she made friends, took part in group activities, and even got into a funny fight about whether Frank Sinatra was overrated.
And she grinned as she saw herself in the mirror, hospital gown and all, on the day she was finally allowed to return home.
“Not bad for an old bat with wrinkles, huh?”
I chuckled. “Not bad at all.”
And perhaps, just possibly, I also discovered that sometimes the tiniest gestures and the most ridiculous displays of affection can make a huge difference.
Therefore, to everyone reading this: Never undervalue the ability to make someone laugh when they’re at their lowest. They may need it more than you realize.
If this story resonated with you, tell someone who might benefit from a gentle reminder that they are not alone. 