Gems from Mom

I can tell when Mom is feeling better. Her sense of humor returns. Mom has a great wit and loves to use it whenever the opportunity arises. She also is not afraid of making a joke about herself. This past couple of weeks Mom has been in a more alert zone and less anxious, at times. And it is those times that I focus on, to get me through the not so great moments.

Two weeks ago both my girls and I, along with Mom, were in the kitchen preparing dinner. The chit-chat was light and fun. Somehow Mom got on the topic of the food bill. Food prices have sky rocketed. I do all the shopping, scouring food ads for specials, clipping and sorting coupons and making up a weekly dinner menu so I know exactly what to buy. I have honed this process down to a fine art. Feeling good about being a responsible shopper, Mom piped up and said that the food bill has gone up since I moved in. Now I take that with a large grain of salt considering that they were not eating healthy or a variety of foods prior to my arrival.

“Your mother spends so much more on food than when all the kids lived here,” stated Mom. “Well at least I’m not growing a pot plant in my room like someone else did,” I replied. Without missing a beat Mom deadpans, “If you could sell it for money that would be a help”. The girls and I howled and Mom was laughing, too! That was a great moment.

Then the other day I was grumbling about chauffeuring duties. It seems like I am always on the road for my daughter. And that is only one teenager. Mom replied, “I know – been there, done that”. As I was walking out the door I yelled back, “I don’t know how you did it with 5 kids. I would be insane!” “Well”, Mom paused, “maybe that is why I have problems today”. I laughed to myself all the way to the car. Making fun of yourself is a such a healthy sign. I relish this quick exchange of shared parenting.

You just never know if it is going to be an up or down day. You just have to wake up in the morning and pray for the best. God will take care of everything else.

And when those gems come along, making your day sparkle, you place them forever in your heart, allowing their light to shine through the dark times.

JaneEllen

Alzheimer's and Band-Aids

As a little girl, I would get the occasional cut. The best part of having a scrape was the band-aid. Of course the band-aids back in the day were bland compared to the colorful band-aids of today with a myriad of characters dancing across the thin strip. The worse part was when it was time to remove the band-aid. Dad had a way of taking it off quickly with one swift tug. As I got older I would try to take it off slowly, thinking that would be less painful. I was wrong. Ripping it off quickly may hurt, but the pain is over in an instant. And it is finished. Slowly peeling the band-aid prolongs the process.

Alzheimer’s is the proverbial band-aid being torn off slowly, over and over.

Mom has not been able to drive for over a year now. Her neurologist feels it is not safe for her to drive. We all agree. Except for Mom, who doesn’t understand why she can’t drive. Worse of all, she doesn’t remember this restriction on her independence.

Each time we catch her with keys in her hand we have to tell her that she is not allowed to drive. She looks incredulously at us. Defeated once again, Mom fades with each instance.

Yesterday, it happened again. She was going out. Dad asked her where she was going and she replied that she was going to buy a bottle of wine. This is a double whammy problem. Alcohol speeds up the memory loss process. So not only is she not allowed to drive, she can not drink, either.

I was working in my office and heard Mom asking why she can’t drive. Dad had to tell her that the doctor said she was not allowed to drive. He implores, “Please, Marilyn. You can not drive a car.” Taking a breath, he adds on the next blow, “And you can not drink any wine”. Her voice got louder and she was pissed, “I can so drive and I am going out!”

Sensing that Dad needed reinforcement, I pop into the kitchen t. It is so hard for him. He wants to take care of his wife, yet it pains him to not give her what she wants. This is his wife of 50+ years. He is torn. It is a no-win situation.

Standing next to Dad trying to appear as a united front, I state, “Mom, you can’t drive and you can’t drink wine. It isn’t just Dad and it isn’t just me. It’s all of us, your children and your grandchildren, who love you and want to take care of you”.

“Fine! I am a prisoner in my own home!” Mom stormed off.

It is times like this that I think of the band-aid slowly being removed, over and over. It never ends. And it hurts me to have to do this over and over. Each time it is like the first time. Each time it is a slap in the face for Mom. Each time she gets a little more upset. And the bitch of it is that there is nothing we can do about it.

I really hate this disease! I want to know why there isn’t any magic pill to treat it.

Instead, Alzheimer’s is a long and painful process where each day a new attack on Mom’s independence is waiting just around the bend.

JaneEllen