During a short visit to New Jersey this past weekend, my husband and I stopped in to visit my Mom. If you’re a Being Fully Present regular, you might know that my Mom has Alzheimer’s Disease. Mom was diagnosed at 63, placed in a nursing home at 69 and has now been there for six years. Early on, Mom was under hospice care when she stopped eating for a while, then she recovered well enough to once again recognize my brother and I and our families, and then she fell back into the depths and has known no one for a couple years. Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
During our visit Monday, though, I couldn’t quite tell if she knew who I was or not. At times, Mom seemed to focus her eyes on me, at other times she seemed to look right through me. She was desperately trying to communicate something to my husband and I. Sadly, it was nearly all gibberish. Sometimes loud, sometimes soft. Lots of sounds, very few words. Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
Da, da, da, DA, DA, daaaaaa. MMmmmmmbaaa, ba, ba, ba, BAAAAAA! Nuuuu, bay, ba, noooo.
For nearly an hour and a half, this is what we heard. I told her about our daughter, her granddaughter, and her husband buying their first home. I told her about her grandson getting married and how they are now expecting Mom’s first great-grandchild. I told Mom that her other granddaughter, my neice, just finished her first year of college. None of it seemed to elicit anything different than anything else she was “saying.” I was trying to hard to glean some kind of reaction to different words or names, but it was not to be. Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
Clearly, Mom was agitated about something. She furrowed her brow now and then, and glared. Her sounds would get louder and faster. She tried to raise her body up from the wheelchair a couple times. At one point, she gripped my finger so hard that my husband had to help pry her hand open to relieve my pain! I don’t know if it was strength or pent up frustration. Either way, she was definitely trying to share some kind of upset feelings. Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
Mom’s hair was too long, her teeth don’t look healthy, her legs are skinny from lack of use. She can no longer feed herself, but her nurse reported that she eats well. She no longer bathes herself, but the aides seem to take good care of her. Mom’s room was clean and her laundered clothes were returned as we visited. Mom no longer can toilet herself, but her diaper was fresh. Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
Mom and I were never as close as some mothers and daughters are, but she was well-loved by our family, church and her friends. Mom is a German immigrant and I am a first generation American woman; we sometimes disagreed on a woman’s place! There was never any doubt, though, that she loved her family, loved helping her neighbors and loved her Lord and her church. Today, that loving and giving woman is trapped inside this horrible disease. There is no more joy, no love, no mothering, no sign of the woman that so many have loved. Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
Before Mom had Alzheimer’s, her mother did. There is certainly a possibility that I may have it one day, as well. I don’t really worry about it, but after a visit with Mom I certainly do think about it. How ironic it would it be if someone who stresses the importance of communication could one day be unable to communicate? Will I one day be trapped by this disease? Will I one day not know my own children? No one really knows what the future holds, but I hope my children never have to say, Mom IS Alzheimer’s.
