There has to be a long scientifical name for it somewhere. But named or not, I most definitely have a phobia of waking people up. I avoid such instances at all costs, but when I haven’t a choice I usually end up rummaging around, dropping things, and coughing like a goat with pneumonia before I’ll outright try to wake anyone out of dreamy bliss.

There is but one welcome exception to this phobia: out of all the people I’ve ever had to try to wake up, by far my little grandmother is the most delightful. She’s always so completely awake and lively by the first that a second”Good morning Grandma!” is never necessary. No frightful groans, assassination attempts, or confused mumblings whatsoever. I can’t help but find this mildly ironic. We moved my lovely little Grandma in with us a year and a half ago because she could no longer live on her own due to a worsening case of Alzheimer’s disease. She never quite knows where she is or who the people around her are.  She speaks in generalities and lets her imagination run pretty wild, but for a woman who has lost so much of what you and I thrive on, she has a beautiful knack for living in the moment. From that first minute that she wakes up in the morning she’s usually ready to live life with all the “umph” she can muster.

One particular morning as I opened the blinds in my Grandma’s room to let the early light in, she had hardly opened her eyes before she announced decidedly, “I’m changing my point of view.” Now I don’t know about you, but for me to even have a point of view until about two hours after I’ve groggily rolled out of bed is a major accomplishment. Not only does Grandma start every morning with what she calls “umph,” she’s also got enough pizzaz to chuck a new point of view on top of it. What a gem.




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