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

working with a counselor who specializes in dementia and Alzheimer’s. She thinks I need to put my mom in an assisted living facility. I cried that whole day and felt so guilty. I’m going to meet with her again, and she is going to come over and observe my mom, too.

It makes me so sad. But she is getting worse, and I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I give it about six months.

—Loreen

I think you sharing your journey with your mother is fantastic and helps so many people realize they aren’t alone in their journey, so thank you for sharing.

—Ask My Community

Very moving post, Lisa. Brings back so many memories. Cherish your time with your mother. Love your blog!

—Katrina

September 23, 2012

Could This Be Magic?

Ibelong to a support group with the Alzheimer’s Association, which meets two times a month. I absolutely look forward to going there. It is a safe place to share all of my feelings with others, who I know truly understand. We all have a parent who suffers with Alzheimer’s.

Yesterday while I was waiting for the bus to go to my support group, I overheard a gentlemen having a conversation with his mother. It had me reflect on how those days for me and my mom were now long gone. Like in a trance, I felt myself slipping deep into my thoughts. The days that Mom and I used to share about our lives were no longer. It left me feeling empty and sad.

I realized that this was a day that I had not yet spoken to her. I usually call her mid morning. For the last few days, I found Mom so disconnected that it was painful calling her. No sounds of laughter or joy resonated from her. Trying to get her to laugh or sing was not on the menu. She just wanted to rush me off the phone and couldn’t have cared less about anything I was saying. Mom was not responsible for her actions; it was her disease reacting.

Even the conversation of asking her if I was her daughter and did she give birth to me, she answered with, “I guess so.” She was able to thank me for calling, and I also got her to throw me my daily kisses. Without these kisses, my day would not be complete. I know that they will disappear, so as of now they mean the world to me. This was not one of her brighter days.

Later that evening I phoned my mom, and like magic, she and I were able to have a real conversation. She did not rush me off the phone, and there were sounds of laughter as we spoke about several different things. I knew that she was really listening, as she chirped in that she didn’t want to interrupt me while I was speaking. After hanging up, I was floating on cloud nine.

The next morning she was still present, and with much conviction, she shouted how very much she loved me and wanted me to have a great day. She sounded so alive, and for several moments I could forget that she had this disease.

Two days of such clarity and she was so clear with her thinking process. How can this be? Who can understand this disease? When hearing her alive and joyful I do not question, yet when she is lost I ask myself why. Do the wires that connect in her brain connect and disconnect? When she has a day of clarity are they all connected, and when she doesn’t they are disconnected? What causes several good days of joyfulness, understanding, and clarity, and then for several days she seems to slip away?

I know that the researches are trying to find a cure or even prevention for Alzheimer’s. I only hope it comes in our lifetime. It’s too late for my mom, yet I wonder how much they truly understand. How does Alzheimer’s appear and disappear so frequently? This disease is not new for her; she has been suffering with this for at least eight years.

Yes, she has her good days and she has her not so good days. I could be flying high from the last few days, and yet I know too well how easily this magic can slip away. I think of the good moments that we still can share, even if they are less than before. So could this be magic? I do know the answer, yet my glass remains half filled not half empty. I am still grateful for whatever time we have left, and I must hold on to whenever the magic reappears.

COMMENTS

Hi Lisa,

I’ve found out about your blog right now. I was upset, looking for people out there who could understand. I’ll be reading your pages. But what I have already noticed, reading quickly your words here and there, is that I could have written the same things myself. If only my English were better. See you soon—you and your mom.

—Julia A.

You are an inspiration, Lisa. Keep the blogs going. I am a nurse who has worked with Alzheimer’s patients for the past thirty years, and you inspire me. Please add me as a friend so I can carry on reading your blog.

—Georgina

Thanks for sharing your story with us, Lisa! It really resonated with me, as I am sure it does with other adult children whose parents have Alzheimer’s. Yes, this disease is quite humbling and creates “a place filled with compassion and understanding that somehow seems different than before.” Well put!

—Long Island Alzheimer’s Foundation

(LIAF)

Thanks for that insightful experience. I was very touched. I experience this every day in my work with dementia people and their families. It never ceases to amaze me, these moments of clarity that are often so unexpected and touch my soul. I have often asked myself the same questions you asked and was hoping that someone would have responded