Sweetness follows

We went to visit my grandmother yesterday. She is in a nursing home and was finally moved to the Alzheimer's unit. She was diagnosed about 5 years ago and was able to live on her own for about a year or so after that. But she began to decline, and we were worried about her safety and had to move her to somewhere more secure than her home. She was fine in the first facility until she fell and broke her hip in spring 2003, and had to be moved to a facility with more skilled care.
We like the place she's in now, and she's done fine until recently. She's walked out a couple of times in the last few weeks, and obviously, that can't happen. So she was moved yesterday.
She seemed quite rattled and unsure of herself, and for the first time, I saw no recognition of me in her face when I walked up to her. It may have been due to the confusion of relocation, or it may be that we are seeing more decline of her memory. It's something I've been expecting to happen, but when it did, I wasn't prepared.
I sat with her in her room and carried on light conversation, mostly about how her dead brother has been visiting her. It broke my heart to see my grandmother, a woman who could not have loved and cared for me more, have no idea who I am. It's selfish, I know. At this point, she doesn't know or remember our connection, so she doesn't feel the loss of the memories. But I do. And I grieve.