For the past several months, my life (and most of my blog posts) have been about my Mom and her journey with dementia due to Alzheimer’s. While everyone’s journey and progression is going to be different, there is so much I’m learning, both about the disease, and about myself.
I don’t want to minimize the pain of this cruel disease. I know it’s heart-breaking. But, honestly, I feel closer to my mother than I ever have in my adult life.
While I still have fears about the future, here are some of the unexpected sweet memories I’ll carry with me about this time:
She still lights up when she sees me
“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”
~Maya Angelou
I call Mom every day and I’m usually able to step her through getting on FaceTime so that we can see each other’s faces.
I’m always amazed at how much this act of seeing my face on the phone serves to excite her! She’s excited about seeing me in person, too, but she just really loves it that she can see me so clearly on the phone. “It’s like you’re right here in the room with me!” she’ll say.
I think a lot of this excitement is that we have the technology to do this and that she’s actually using it!
But whether we sing a song together (something she loves to do) or I tell her about my day (sometimes multiple times) or I remind her of a family story, she absolutely loves our visits.
If I tell her a story that makes her laugh, I can share it again tomorrow — and she’ll laugh just as hard, as if hearing it for the first time.
Living in the moment – Truly!
Happiness self-help books tell us to “live in the moment” and not ruminate about things we can’t change. When you can’t remember much, you really can’t help but to “live in the moment.”
I know that it can be frustrating for Mom to have a feeling of fear or sadness and not really remember the origination of that feeling.
It’s been difficult to navigate her grief over people who have died. She doesn’t remember their deaths. When she asks about people who have died, I gently remind her, telling her how much she loved them and how comforted they were by her at the end of their lives.
When she says she can’t remember their actual deaths, I say something like, “I think our minds don’t want us to use up space with sad, painful memories. But let’s talk about the happy memories.”
Then I’ll tell her one of those memories that I know makes her smile, and she’ll soon forget her sadness.
I’ve seen how prolonged grief can be all-consuming on those of us with full memory. In some ways, I think my mom is spared that burden. Her mind gently shields her from the sharp edges of loss.
Letting her be the mother
I learned a lot by taking a class through CareBlazers about how family members can best care for someone with dementia.
In the month before moving Mom and Philip to a Senior Facility, I lived with them to help care for them. Even though there were times I needed to help or get Mom to do things she didn’t want to do, I was careful to not treat her as though I were the mother and she was the child.
She responded best when I would ask for her help. For example, I asked to borrow her blowdryer and my Dad’s old bathrobe. (He’d died in 2010, but she’d kept his huge bathrobe.) After I took a bath, she was so pleased to see me cozy in his oversized bathrobe. She came over to give me a big hug, knowing she’d provided not just hospitality, but a way for me to reconnect with my father, through his robe.
I still use every chance I can to remind Mom how much I respect and admire her. I admire her humor, her resilience, and her strength. When I tell her this on a FaceTime call, I see her face visibly fill with pride. She often will get tears in her eyes and say something like, “Oh, Yvette, that means so much to me. I love you so much.”
There’s More!
As I’m writing this, I keep thinking of more I’d like to say, but this post is getting long, so I’ll wait for a “Part 2.”
For now, I’ll end in saying that experiencing these calls and visits with Mom, while not always easy, have been so very rewarding.
The Party’s Over… But the Mission Continues
Our Longest Day Party may be over, and I’m thrilled to share that I’ve already exceeded my fundraising goal — thank you to everyone who donated or supported the cause
Even though the event has passed, the Alzheimer’s Association continues its vital work every day — and donations are always welcome.
If this story touched your heart, feel free to contribute here:
http://act.alz.org/goto/KeepMemoriesAlive
Every dollar helps keep memories alive and supports families like mine through their Alzheimer’s journey.
