My grandma turned 93 today. It's been a tough year for her. Things haven't gotten a lot better since her stroke about a year ago. Fortunately, they haven't gotten worse either, and she's been pretty stable. But it's still awfully sad and frustrating, and it's been a real loss. She knows who I am, and her long-term memory isn't bad -- she remembers things from her past, she remembers fundamental things about the world and her life and, in the moment, she makes a lot of sense and can carry on a conversation. But her short-term memory isn't there, and new information just doesn't stick for more than a few seconds. So every day, it's the same conversation, more or less, at least on her end, changed only based on however it is I respond."

"It's so good to hear your voice. Where are you?"

"I'm back in New York. Nina and I just moved into a new apartment."

"In Brooklyn?"

"No, Manhattan."

"Oh, Manhattan's very elegant. It used to be quite a big deal, to tell someone you were living in Manhattan. How can there be anything more impressive than that? How many rooms is the apartment?"

"Two rooms. A bedroom and a living room. Plus a bathroom, of course. And there's a little kitchen area attached to the living room."



"And who's living there?"

"Me and Nina."

"You already moved there?"

"Yep, last week."

"And it's in Brooklyn?"

"No, Manhattan."

"Oh, Manhattan's very elegant. It must be very expensive,"

"It's small."

"But you're not married yet, right?"

"The wedding's in two weeks."

"Two weeks?? How come I didn't know about that?"

"You did."

"No one told me about that! You already sent out the invitations?"

"Yes. You have one, on your refrigerator."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. But that's okay. Now you know. Two weeks."

"And it's all planned?"

"Yep."

"That's exciting. But where are you going to live?"

etc.

If nothing else, it has taught me patience. But it's hard, and sad. My whole family went out for dinner tonight with my grandma to celebrate. She seemed to have a really nice time, she was definitely happy to see everyone, and had a whole bunch of leftovers to take home. As we were walking her back to the house from the car, she asked, "Did I eat dinner yet?"

The brain is very interesting.