Mom and I laughed and just hung out together. She of course had no memory of the day before, that is the blessing of dementia.
As I visited, I reflected back on what that previous episode must have felt like to her. Imagine finding yourself in a room full of complete strangers, some of who seem insistent on taking personal liberties with you (bathing you, dressing you, checking your underwear from time to time), and as if that wasn’t enough, this new complete stranger walks up to you, completely enters your personal space as if he’s known you his entire life, when you know you’ve never ever seen him before in your life. You just wish he and everyone else would leave you alone and respect your privacy. You hope that you are safe.
Mom’s earlier reaction to me makes perfect sense when viewed through her eyes.
While Dad was still alive, I’ve seen Mom attempt to call the police on him when she would lose her memory of him and their 60+ year marriage. Perfectly logical, perfectly heartbreaking.
I’m reminded that this journey we’re on is going to be lived one day at a time.
Today, all was well. Mom and I had a wonderful time talking about me behind my back. She remembers my name, she just no longer connects it with me. I try putting in a good plug for me but Mom DOES remember needing to give her youngest son a lot of spankings. Of all the things for her to remember.
While we visited, Mom nodded off. When she awoke she apologized and exclaimed, “Oh my, I went to bed.”
To which I smiled and replied, “It’s okay, I never left.”Related