Reality. Living in a dream state.

8,000 pageviews....WOW!  When my sis and I started this blog a few months ago, we did not expect so many folks to be checking out our writings, let alone miss us when we don't write for a few days.  Thank you.  I am humbled.

Watching dementia take over a person is at times like being in a dream state.  What is reality and what is the dream?  When is it ok to lie, when might a lie confuse even more?  When did life's circumstances become so complicated, but loving so simple?  The paradox becomes reality, blurring the lines of reality and dreamstate.

And being the long-distance caregiver, I'm never quite sure of reality.  Mom calls, her voice is clear and sounds 'normal', and then she tells me she started crocheting a shawl for her mother - who died almost 20 years ago.  Then she says she realized her mom was dead, got sad, and then decided to make the shawl for me.  Or she talks about the 'kids' in the house she wants to make sure she has plenty of food and ice cream for.  And then a few minutes later she will speak words of wisdom, saying I need to make sure I mend fences with an estranged family member.

Voyageur is given a shot of reality every time she enters Mom's house.  Enough yarn to start a yarn store - in a garage! Cupboards with sugar by coffee mugs, 7 bottles of the same salad dressing, can't find a pot or pan to save your life.  But is that real or is reality the time spent pouring over pictures of yesteryear where Mom's memory is shaper? Or the bonding that happens over peppermint hot chocolate or some silly concoction that Mom tried to make that didn't quite turn out the way she thought? Or the inordinate amount of time at the grocery store or Mom's favorite craft store which makes her giddy?

I have to say that in quite the bizarre way, dementia has taught me that reality is a perception I can choose to stay in or, for awhile, I can live in a dream state that is full of yarn, laughter, love and ice cream.

Back at ya Voyageur!