My great grandmother was at the ripe old age of 98 this year. Every Christmas, the family celebrates at our house, and Nanna always has to stay over a few nights so it's not two trips back to back. Mom calls it resting time.
Here's the thing about Nanna. I'm sure she was a nice friendly woman at a younger age, but right now, she has dementia. She's always very grouchy and it's always really hard on the family.
Here's another thing about her. If she ever stays anywhere, she brings these peices of equiptment with her. One of which is a heart monitor, that's louder than a freaking jet ingine.
When you go up the stairs, the first room you get to is the guest room, or "Nanna's room". Down the hall is my parent's room, and at the very end is my room. So at least I can sleep without a huge beeping in the room beside me.
On Christmas Night, Nanna arrived and had everyone set up her things. It was as normal as any other night she stayed over. Until later, anyways.
Sometime around 1 or 2 a.m., Dad came in my room. He quickly shook me awake.
"Get up," he whispered. "We're leaving..."
His voice was frantic and he was struggling to keep it in a whisper.
"What's going on?" I mumbled sleepily.
"Listen..." He said with a horrified expression.
I listened for a while and could hear what they were so afraid of. Nanna was laughing hysterically behind her closed door.
I rolled my eyes.
"Dad, she has dementia. This is normal."
He shook his head and pulled me out of bed, dragging me down the hall.
"Your mother's already in the car. We have to leave, now."
As we walked down the hallway, I began to see how serious the situation was. The hair stood up on the back of my neck.
Nanna's heart monitor was a constant flat line...
The laughter got louder and louder until we passed her door.
That's when it stopped.