One of the realities of dementia is the loss of language. It’s clear my mom recognizes that there is a connection between her and I but she gets very creative in describing what that connection is. She has at times identified me as either her father or her husband although her most common descriptor of me is brother. Only rarely and always only briefly does she correctly identify me as her son.
I like to say that I may have slid down to the trunk of the family but I’m still hanging on. Today I fell off the tree entirely.
While visiting Mom today in her facility she at one point turned to me and said, “I have a bush named Jo.”
“What?” I asked.
“I have a bush named Jo!” And she was quite proud of her ability to remember this.
I put my head down on the table and just started laughing. I couldn’t help it.
Mom didn’t know what was so funny but since I was laughing, she started laughing with me.
Hopefully my “bush” is at least in the same yard as the family tree.
Love you, Mom!
Your potted plant.