Ok. I did say that this would be a time capsule "eighties" And in my vision of this blog; I imagine a going back and forth between the past and the present time including excerpts from old journals. I took a look at 1987...Yikes. I was a dork. Well, not really a dork, but it is embarassing how much I talked about "crushes" and the such at that stage in my life. I was 12. But here at the end of that diary is a significant memory I have.
So, here goes: (keep in mind that this is in the words of a 12 year old...many spelling (sic) and such errors and probably typos in copying.) and forgive my immature 12 year old perspectives..
Saturday, April 25, 1987 age: 12
I just finished the paper route with dad. He didn't have to work today. So we didn't have to get up at four. I'm not tired at all even if I wen tto bed at eleven and got up at five. Yesterday the most amazing thing happened to me. We went to go visit Grandma at the hospital, because she had a severe shock almost a stroke leaving her right side paralyzed. This happened Monday just after we had spent the weekend with Grandpa for Easter. Grandpa told us Grandma wouldn't even recordnize (sic) us. She couldn't talk or anything. Excpet somehow deep inside me I couldn't realize that. When mom and I went into her room (which last time we were visiting her I was about eleven and wasn't allowed to see her, because of my age) The first look at her I thought she was dead, I was so scaired(sic). I waslked over to her and she was sleeping. I tried to wake her, but I coudlnt' tell if she was awake or asleep. I tried to talk to her, but she gave no signs of recordnition (sic). I read her a healing prayer(my favorite the one I read when I burned my foot). still no recordnitions I told her over and over how much I love her still no resonse that was when I remembered all the times I told her that and she would kiss me and later on when she went to the convelenscent (sic) home she would squeeze my hand, but she just lay there unrecorditionalble. I started to cry. I have never eally felt this way before, except when I couldn't find Panoochie, (our cat) or when I aw that dead cat. When I cried over Mr. Wyman it wasn't my true feelings or when I cried of Grandma Kennedy it really wasn't real, but this time it was true tears not tears that I thought I should shed.
Then mom came over and said a prayer for her. I then kept talking to her and telling her about camping all the fun we had. When I told her stories about the tv series, Waltons, and Little House on the Prairie. The n the nurse came in and I asked if I could hold her hand, I no longer felt like crying. I tried to hold her hand, but she shook it and didn't want any part of it. She probably thought I was a nurse. So I just put my hand over hers and kept talking ot her. I put my head on her sholder and closed my eyes for a while. I wanted to show her my love and that it was me. that was when she turned her head and looked at me. She moved her hand and I held onto it. She sqeezed my hand! and looked at me directly in the eyes. I knew she had responded to me. I told her about the movie Rags to Rickes and I cold tell she liked that. Itold her again that I love her. The time was running out though, we had been with her for most of the time and had to give dad and grandpa a chance to see her. I told her we had to go and I kissed her on the lips and she kissed me back! That gave dad and granpa only 20 minutes to see her. while we waited in the waiting room I saw people talking to a deaf person in sign language. I wen tover and talked to that person with my hands too using letters. When dad and grandpa came back they said granma was very conscous(sic) and even reached for granpas (sic) hand. I have never felt this good in my life.
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