"How's gran doing?" This seems to be the three words I ask my mom every day I call her on the phone. Sometimes it's a good answer. Other times it's not. Some days, I am caught up in my own world, occupied by school work, social life, or preoccupied with other 22-year-old life matters to even bother to ask.

I think about how I can pick up the phone and converse with my other grandma - how she can hold a conversation about exams, remember all my friends' names, and childhood memories when my Gran sometimes isn't sure who I even am. She'll forget. She'll call me Grace. Or Lisa. No, Gran, I'm Olivia. Livvy. She'll get confused where she is, who she is, and what we are doing at the present time.

So, when I am sitting in a rocking chair, the same one she used to hold me in her arms and read to me in when I was six, I give myself a reminder. While she may have temporarily forgotten my name, my age, or whose daughter I am, she hasn't forgotten the love we share. The love that stems from memories that last longer than any age can outlive. These are the memories that we can't forget, the person, the soul and the love that is our job to preserve in our hearts.

When she forgets how to read, I remember how she fostered the love of reading in me

When she blames her eyesight for not being able to pick up a book and decipher the words, I remember how when I was a little she would read to me when I was hurt, lonely, or sad. "Instead of a cookie give her a book when she's hurt."

When she forgets her favorite songs, I remember how much she loves to sing

When she can't think of the tune or melody, put on jazz and hum along. Sing the lullabies she used to sing to you when you couldn't fall asleep. Remember she loves you a "bushel and a peck"

When she forgets what day it is, I remember how she made every day the best day for me

When she grows stressed and confused about the time, date or place in the present, I remember the days of the past. When I was little and had no recollection of time. All that mattered is I was having the best day at Gran's, freely running around, those summer days, and playing poolside with my cousins. The days when she took care of us and eased our worries.

Watching the people, we love to grow old and forgetful makes us grow up too. We watch the ones that took care of us our whole lives, needing taking care of now. However, no matter how much age can bring upon change, the memories that are created with it stay static and never leave.

The love shared will always be remembered and never forgotten.