We have been living with my mother for 15 weeks now as we wait for our new house to be finished. My mother lives in the same house my parents built in the 50's, which Don and I rebuilt after Hurricane Katrina swamped it in flood water. I am back in my childhood bedroom and the night we moved in Don told me, "Well, I've returned you to within 5 feet of where I found you 29 years ago"! I had to think on that a minute, but realized when we met I had moved from this bedroom to the larger room once my sister had gotten married. What a memory he has!
My mother is 91 years old and has always taken very good care of herself. The above picture was taken on her 91st birthday, and looking at the picture I am sure you would think she looks great for 91!! Physically, she is doing fine and still gets around on her own. Unfortunately, dementia has taken a toll on her mind and it has been a very sad thing to witness. I am thankful we are able to be here and watch over her each day. Of course, she does not think she needs to be watched over and when we move, we will only be right next door. Most days, she does not even remember we are building a house, nor does she remember our son lives here with us as well. Almost every day she will ask who is sleeping in the middle bedroom and at night he tells us that she comes in and stares at him while he is sleeping. I know it must be an awful feeling for her to see someone sleeping in her house and have no idea who it is in the bed.
My mother was such an independent woman all of her life that it is especially difficult to see her struggle with simple thoughts, and the inability to remember from one moment to the next. I can have a reasonable conversation with her, get her thoughts on one thing or another, and then, five minutes later the whole conversation is gone, as if it never happened. What a sad, sad disease dementia is, to steal the life of an otherwise healthy person. I can no longer ask her about family stories as she has no recollection of growing up. Occasionally, from the deep recesses of her mind, a story will come back and she will share things in detail from her childhood. The next day, she will have no memory of the story or sharing it with me. I am so fortunate to be here with her and more importantly, I am fortunate that my children are here and are very compassionate about this awful disease. I asked her recently if she knew who I was and she responded, "Don't make me use my brain, it's not working right...I know you are someone who treats me very nice." That was good enough for me! She has recently began taking some medication and I am seeing slight improvement. Last night, I heard her ask Don, "Is Lynette in the bedroom sleeping?" I was thrilled to hear her say my name!!
I am so thankful that Don is here with me and helps me so much with the care of my mother. He has so much patience with her and I often hear him from the other room repeating an answer to a question over and over again, just as if it were the first time she had asked the question.
