My Mom My Hero: Alzheimer's - A Mother and Daughter's Bittersweet Journey by Hirsch, R. (mind reading books .txt) 📗

I avoid bringing up my dad to her. At times when I have, my mom usually says that she cannot remember him. No matter how many times I have heard this from her, to be married for almost fifty years and to have shared a family and lifetime together and still not be able to remember it still amazes me.

The saving grace for me, and of course for her, is that I know deep in my heart that whatever memories she had of my dad are now long forgotten. She can no longer feel her broken heart or any unnecessary pain.

“Hi, Mom, I heard you just watched a movie that you really enjoyed.” Mom answered with, “Yes, it was very good.” “What was it about?” I inquired. I then heard my mom ask Elaine to please tell me what the movie was about, for she could not remember.

The feelings of her remembering my dad were all but washed away, almost like a passing rain shower or, even more, like a rainbow that quickly fades away.

Mom and Dad were married in 1942, when she had just turned eighteen years old. My dad was turning twenty-one and soon to be shipping off with the Navy. They were married for a little shy of fifty years, and now for Mom it seems to be a life that has been taken away. I wonder how such a disease can destroy a lifetime of memories.

Hopefully one day researchers in the medical field will be able to find a cure, so others will be able to hold on to the memories of their lives and all their loved ones. So Dad, if Mom could remember her most recent words, I’m sure she would say again, “My man, I loved him so.”

COMMENTS

What a nice story, Lisa. At least you now know that she does remember your father—maybe she just needs something like that movie to nudge it from her memory bank. Your stories are so inspiring. Keep them coming!

—Kathleen

What a sweet mom you have. I love how she smiles in some of the pictures. It brings joy to my heart to see her smile despite this awful disease.

—Ginger

Lisa,

You and your mom are doing a wonderful job. Your story has gone around the world via Facebook. It is inspirational! Thanks so much for sharing.

All the best,

Holly

Dear Lisa,

I saw the post you wrote about your mom on a Facebook page. It was beautiful and moving. I am an eldercare placement specialist in Los Angeles for sixteen years specializing in dementia and Alzheimer’s residents. Your mom sounds like a peach. Additionally, my dad has Alzheimer’s, so I relate to your blog both personally and professionally. Thanking you for sharing your journey.

—Steffanie

August 10, 2012

I Feel Mom Drifting Away

My mom will be eighty-eight years old in fourteen days. For this I am quite grateful. Yet for the last few weeks, I have felt how she is starting to drift further away. One could say she’s like a boat lost at sea or caught in the midst of a dense fog.

Yes, we still have our special moments, and I can still hear the sound of joy and laughter coming from her as we speak. I just notice that they are becoming less frequent. At times her voice sounds more lethargic and somewhat listless. Perhaps it is that she is moving further along with her Alzheimer’s, and also being eighty-eight makes her no spring chicken.

In the beginning of the week, my mom sounded disoriented, complaining about back pains. She did not know where she lived and only wanted to go back home, for fear that her mom would be worried about her. We were fortunate to realize that Mom was having another urinary tract infection, and quickly got her on an antibiotic. We went down this path several months ago, so we are now educated about what to do for her. It is several days later now, and Mom sounds “back to normal.”

Mom will sometimes kid around with me and tell me that I am catching up to her in age. “How about your height?” I ask of her. Mom, who is less than five feet tall, responds with, “Who knows? Maybe I still will grow.” At moments like that, her humor warms my heart.

I try my best to keep her mind stimulated. Mom has been an excellent speller and always had a great vocabulary. She seems to still get ninety percent of the words she spells correct. Yet when I ask her to spell Portugal, she says to me, “What’s that? I never heard of it.” Or she’ll say, “What is a lobster?” which mom use to love to eat. “Mom, can you spell ‘illusion’?” “I never heard of that word.” “Okay, Mom, spell ‘delusion,’ ” which she was able to do as simple as one, two, three.

Her voice seems more tired, and there are more days when she wants to take quite few a naps. Mom was someone who never napped. I wonder if she is up all hours of the night, since I’m aware that people with Alzheimer’s have awkward sleeping patterns. Day is night and nights can be day. They do not realize the difference, as if the times of day are all rolled into one.

On the other side of this cloud is still some sunshine. Mom asked when I am coming to visit, after I had just described how foggy it was outside. She then was able to respond that I shouldn’t come until the sky brightens, because she would never want anything to happen to me. “Mom, you can really break my heart, when you say things like that.” I continued with, “Do you know how very much I love you?” She answered with, “No, I know you love me, but I do not understand what ‘much’ means.” I try to explain with a little surprise in my voice. I quickly move past this conversation.

No matter which