Suspend Judgment
This last visit home was challenging for sure. Mom's symptoms have progressed - her brain struggles to understand the relationship of daughter. She would ask me if I had other brothers and sisters, where I grew up, where I went to high school. A couple of times she said 'Oh, you're MINE.' She innately knows I'm her daughter, but the pieces of the brain that makes sense of relationships is fading.
Right now, the smaller changes are harder for me - I think because they are usually a precursor for a big dip of symptom(s). This time when I was home, Mom walks slower and kinda wobbles a little - I linked my arm through hers to help steady her. There was one evening when she asked me at least 3 times where Dad had gone. The first time, I could only look at her, the words were hard to find. And then I told her Dad was dead. She asked me if he had been gone awhile, I said yes. She asked me how he died, I told her - throat cancer. She vacillates between talking about him in the present and then the past tense. I know there will come a day when she only talks about him in the present tense.
And in the midst of the progression of the disease, she is crocheting better. Her scarves are longer (she was crocheting really short scarves) and she is crocheting infinity scarves. Her home healthcare aide is a master crocheter and knitter. The woman currently only comes in once a week for 3 hours. But during that time, as much as Mom tries to get rid of her (and because of the contract with the agency, only Voyageur can make the aide leave) they spend time crocheting together. Now mind you, Mom has given me about a dozen scarves - the majority I have donated or given to homeless I see on the streets - and have kept a couple for myself.
While I was home we made chocolate chip cookies. Mom then took the Reynolds Wrap out of its box and put the cookies in there - wrapped a rubber band around the box and put the box in the cupboard. Lovely. I pulled out the box and then Mom looked at it and laughed, put the cookies into a plastic container with a lid. Funny how sometimes she knows what she does makes absolutely no sense and other times she is adament about the senselessness - or silliness :)
We decorated the house for Christmas - this is where her brain has slid back into childhood. She had pieces of fabric of elves that we put up around the house - some on the fridge door, some taped to a bookshelf (she wanted to use tape). I suspended my judgment, picked up my silliness and we decked the halls with laughter and joy. There is no doubt these are incredibly precious moments and we will continue to laugh through our tears.
Back at ya Voyageur.
Right now, the smaller changes are harder for me - I think because they are usually a precursor for a big dip of symptom(s). This time when I was home, Mom walks slower and kinda wobbles a little - I linked my arm through hers to help steady her. There was one evening when she asked me at least 3 times where Dad had gone. The first time, I could only look at her, the words were hard to find. And then I told her Dad was dead. She asked me if he had been gone awhile, I said yes. She asked me how he died, I told her - throat cancer. She vacillates between talking about him in the present and then the past tense. I know there will come a day when she only talks about him in the present tense.
And in the midst of the progression of the disease, she is crocheting better. Her scarves are longer (she was crocheting really short scarves) and she is crocheting infinity scarves. Her home healthcare aide is a master crocheter and knitter. The woman currently only comes in once a week for 3 hours. But during that time, as much as Mom tries to get rid of her (and because of the contract with the agency, only Voyageur can make the aide leave) they spend time crocheting together. Now mind you, Mom has given me about a dozen scarves - the majority I have donated or given to homeless I see on the streets - and have kept a couple for myself.
While I was home we made chocolate chip cookies. Mom then took the Reynolds Wrap out of its box and put the cookies in there - wrapped a rubber band around the box and put the box in the cupboard. Lovely. I pulled out the box and then Mom looked at it and laughed, put the cookies into a plastic container with a lid. Funny how sometimes she knows what she does makes absolutely no sense and other times she is adament about the senselessness - or silliness :)
We decorated the house for Christmas - this is where her brain has slid back into childhood. She had pieces of fabric of elves that we put up around the house - some on the fridge door, some taped to a bookshelf (she wanted to use tape). I suspended my judgment, picked up my silliness and we decked the halls with laughter and joy. There is no doubt these are incredibly precious moments and we will continue to laugh through our tears.
Back at ya Voyageur.