Leland E. Rainier was a United States Marine who served with the 6th Marine Division during World War II. He was a reserve police officer; a custodial and maintenance worker for the City of Burlington, New Jersey; a member and former President of the American Legion, Post 79; and a survivor of both prostate and skin cancers. He is a husband, father, and grandfather. He is, in fact, my grandfather.
On Thanksgiving Day, 1996, Lee Rainier suffered a stroke — he stubbornly waited until after the last of the pumpkin pie was cleared from the table before he would allow his middle daughter to drive him to the hospital. It was soon after that he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.
For fourteen years, I’ve watched my grandfather deteriorate from a loving but hard-as-nails Marine (Semper Fi) to a man so broken that he would cry and beg God to “take me home”. This past week, my husband David and I were called to the nursing home where he and my grandmother are living out their remaining days, as he’s gone unconscious and is on oxygen, an IV, and morphine.
As a family, we’ve been here before; he refused food and slowly slipped out of consciousness earlier this year, only to pull through and make as full a recovery as someone in his mental condition can. He was at least speaking words again, even if they didn’t always make sense, and he could sometimes recognize me and my husband–or at least my husband’s curly head of hair, which my grandfather adored. So we’re faced with a situation that is not unfamiliar, but for which the inevitable seems to be once again reminding us of its omnipresence.
On our visit this Sunday, I took some basic camera equipment with me to document what was happening as the family–his sisters, his daughters and grandchildren–trickled in and out of the room. This was a man who once was able to walk down the street of Burlington City and know everyone on the street by name, who walked around the diners before being seated greeting most of the patrons he knew (and introducing himself to those he didn’t) as if he could have run for mayor and won, even though he dropped out of high school to defeat the Axis powers when he was only in 10th grade. I don’t know if any of the many members of his various organizations, his church, or his community will see this before the time has come–if they do, I hope they see him soon. Sadly, the truth seems to be that someone so well-known and well-liked can be destroyed by this terrible illness, left isolated and alone by a disease that frightens away others because of the way it ravages the victim’s brain.
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