As I hung up the phone, I laughed and was totally amazed. My mom, who cannot remember what she ate for breakfast, is now easily speaking in another language to me. Who knows where this came from? I immediately called my brother and shared it with him. His response was, “Are you serious? Mom’s speaking Yiddish?” I answered, “I sure am.”
Just the other day I shared with my mom something I had recently written about her. I told her the title: “My Very Special Mom.” She thanked me and said that it was quite a compliment to her and that she felt honored. “Mom, if I didn’t mean it I would not say it.” As we both laughed, she said that it was still very sweet of me to say these things.
To keep Mom’s mind stimulated, I often spell with her. I asked her to spell “compliment.” Mom spelled it correctly. I then asked her to spell several other words, which she also spelled correctly. Then out of the blue, my mom said, “I don’t want to spell anymore.” “Why?” I inquired. She replied with that she was in bed and didn’t care if she spelled or not.
“Mom, it’s eleven o’clock a.m. Why are you in bed?” As if I were hearing a young child, my mom said she did not know that it was so early and asked me what she should do. “Mom, are you tired?” She answered that she didn’t know. She suddenly went from spelling and sounding so sharp to now sounding like a lost child.
I once again am left with this overwhelming feeling of how I just want to hold her in my arms and to cradle her like a child. I want to have her near me, to tell her not to be afraid and that everything will be fine. Yet I know this is not how it will be.
Is it my mom that I want to hold, or is it the fears that lie deep within me? These feelings came to me from my heart, not from my head. At moments they can scare me, and at other times I forget about my mom’s illness and am able to just love the special moments that we still can share.
There seems to be so much more attention to Alzheimer’s lately. I have listened and read in much detail about different findings, and the optimistic feelings by neuroscientists who believe that there will be a major breakthrough within fifteen to twenty years. This will not help my mom or the millions of people around the world who now suffer from this disease. It probably would not even help me if I were to get Alzheimer’s. Yet I can only imagine and pray for a world free of this disease.
This truly is a disease that only the families that are stricken with can understand. A disease that somehow can wipe away a whole person’s life as if it never existed, leaving them with absolutely nothing.
So for now my mom and I still get to sing and laugh, and I get to love her completely. She can still put a smile on my face and joy in my heart. What we now can share are very special moments that I will always treasure.
COMMENTS
Hi Lisa,
I love reading your blogs. My mom also has Alzheimer’s and seems to be at the same stage as your mom. My dad passed away last year, and it was only then how I realized how bad my mom was, as my dad use to cover for her. This disease is frightening, and I sometimes feel I lost both my parents last year. Mom doesn’t believe that Dad has passed, and although she is in wonderful assisted living in South Africa, she constantly sits at the window waiting for his return. I visit two to three times a week, yet it breaks my heart to see her slipping away. Your blogs are dear to my heart, as I feel that there is someone out there, experiencing the same things as my family and I are currently experiencing. You are not alone. Take care.
—Cher
Wow, isn’t it amazing and wonderful that your mom can still spell and also speak Yiddish. Alzheimer’s is such an awful thief, robbing the person’s memories, and then it’s so wonderful when we get those surprise memories.
Hugs,
Dale
Lisa,
This is a beautiful tribute to your mom. What a special relationship you have with her. My mom is in the late stages of Alzheimer’s disease and we just placed her on hospice. This disease is so horrific and devastating.
Best,
Sally Anne
April 8, 2012
Like a Miracle
Ihave heard that Alzheimer’s can come and go. Actually it never really disappears, yet there can be moments, even a day, when my mom almost seems not to have any form of dementia. Okay, maybe I am exaggerating a little, although when these moments come it feels like a miracle.
My brother recently told me a cute story about my mom’s conversation with a visiting nurse. The nurse was trying to see if my mom needed any other care. My brother and Trudy, her caregiver, were with her when the nurse arrived. She asked my mother many questions, and there were several that Mom could not answer correctly. Then the nurse asked Mom if she knew what month it was. My mom answered “July.” The nurse replied that Mom was incorrect, and said it was April.
My feisty mother responded, “If you know what month it is, then why ask me?” As my brother shared this with me, we both laughed. I smiled with pleasure, the pleasure that Mom was still there. She was tough enough to stand up for herself in a cute, innocent way.
Yesterday when I spoke to Mom, her dementia seemed to
