My Grandpa doesn't know me.

But, I know him.

I know him as my grandpa who used to always have peppermints in his pockets, and he'd give me one during church.


I don't know him as the man who, in his early stages of dimentia, mistook my husband for my brother.


I DO know him as my grandpa who loved to talk about the farm and what he did there as a young boy/man.


I don't know him as the man who repeated conversations.


I DO know him as my grandpa who could put the sparkle in the existing light in my mom's eyes.  


I don't know him as the man with Alzheimer's who used his glasses as silverware.


I DO know him as my grandpa who used to laugh and laugh- especially when his daughters would tell stories!


I know him.
And I can't wait to see him again in Heaven without Alzheimer's.  Just as my Grandpa Hanchett.