Thanksgiving 2011

I realized it has been while since I wrote about my mom. I figured this is a good time to write because as the holidays approach, I hurt and I ache. It helps to write.

I am thankful that she is still here for me to visit. Most days she seems to recognize my voice, but recently there have been a few days where she looks like she doesn't know me at all. Those days hurt deeply. It is a harsh reminder of this disease. People ask how my mom is doing and my answer is stable, because that is all I can really say. You can't say oh she is getting better. You can say she is getting worse. So, as long as I am saying stable, I feel that is good.

I am thankful for the great care she is still receiving. There have been some staff changes and those have been very hard for me. Some staff, I can now call friend and I am so grateful for that. I don't do well with change and I know God knows that. I think He shakes things up for me to remind me that He is constant. Even through all the changes both with her and the nursing home, He is still constant and does not change. For that, I am grateful.

I am grateful that she is my mother. I am grateful that she taught me so much when she was healthy. I am grateful that she wrote me letters and cards. I am really grateful that I saved them. I am grateful that I can see her in me and things that I say or do. She was a wonderful mother and I am so blessed to be her daughter.

But there is a side to the holidays that is not easy and is hard to be thankful for. That part is the hole that is in my life where she was. I remember going to craft shows the day after Thanksgiving. We would play games on Thanksgiving with friends of the family who joined us. I miss those days. I always thought I would have her around. I had dreams of what the holidays would be like after I was married. These dreams included kids and big family gatherings around the holidays. A part of me grieves around the holidays, for those dreams are not going to happen. I wanted her to be Grandma. She would have been a great Grandma. She was a wonderful mother.

A Rough week

Emotionally this week has been draining. My mom is fine right now. She is stable and happy. But this week was her birthday. She turned 63. It is hard to believe we have been dealing with this for 7 years. As the years go by, the way she was before the Dementia seems like another lifetime ago.

Today, I did the Walk for Alzheimer's. It was the 1st year I have been able to participate. As I am driving the City Park, I was remembering how my mom used to do this drive 5 days a week when she worked at PSL for the Volunteer Department. She used to be able to work and drive. Now, she can't even feed herself. How can this be the same person?

I went to see her on her birthday. No, she won't remember and probably didn't have any idea that is was her birthday. I do it for me. I do it for my memories of her. Is it easy, no. Do I ache and cry, yes. But I need to be there with her. It makes me feel better most of the time.

I don't know what next year will bring. I can only hope and pray that this time next year, I will be celebrating her 64th birthday and still carrying a Yellow Flower for the Alzheimer's walk. That color means caring for someone with Alzheimer's. I dread the Purple Flower, that is in memory of someone who has died from Alzheimer's. But I know one day this horrible disease will take my mom completely away from me, both in mind and body. Selfishly, I say not yet....because what will I do and who will I be when she is gone?

Psalm 139 Alzheimer’s Version

God sees you, He knows what’s happened, He knows you.He knows when you sit and when you sleep.
He knows your tangled thoughts; He knows them straight.
He knows when you’re not here
and where you are when you’re gone.
He knows your ways.
Before your words are lost before they get to your tongue,
He knows what you were about to say, what you meant.
He knows you.

There’s nowhere you can go, Mom, where God won’t go with you,
where God’s Spirit won’t comfort you, can’t hold you.
As your light turns to night, even this darkness won’t hide you.
God sees you clearly because dark is light to Him.
He’ll go with you.
And He thinks of you, Mom, often.
The number of times, the many ways God cares for you,
if we tried to count them, would outnumber
sand on a beach.
So you can rest easy, while I count.
I’m counting my tears.
I’m counting the slights, the indignities, the affronts
to your good pride.
I’m counting the frayed edges, the missing pieces of your
lost person.
But we’ll get through this, Mom,
because when you awake—everyday and someday—you
will be with him.
And someday I too will awake with Him, with you.

I found this one day and I changed it to fit my mom. I always say that God is holding each lost word and lost memory in the palm of His hand. One day, those will be released back to my mom. One day, she will be restored. If I love my mom this much and ache for her as much as I do, God much ache more. He created her. Although, I don't always understand why we are going through this. I know He is with us and isn't letting one forgotten moment get away from Him. I also believe, He is holding on to every tear that I shed on behalf of my mom and I. His ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts. I just have to trust.

Comfort

Comfort is one of that word that would describe what my mom was to me growing up. She was there with me when I had my tonsils removed, staying overnight in the hospital. When my parent's divorced I would sleep on the floor in her room and it made me feel a little better. Even when I was older, I would find myself sleeping on her floor if I was having a hard time. A hug from her or encouraging words would always help me feel better when dealing with a broken heart. I miss that about her. Sometimes, I still need the comfort she would bring. I don't think you are ever too old for the comfort of your mother.

I hope that maybe now, I bring her comfort in her current state. I always hope that when I am there with her, she is a little more relaxed. Maybe my presence brings the same feelings of safety, that she brought me. I wish that when I sat with her, I would feel her comfort again. I wish when I sat with her, that I would feel that everything is okay. But life is so different now with her being sick.

Aching

I have become very good at hiding the pain with a smile. Most of the time, it is a genuine smile....but there are those times when it is hiding the pain, the tears and the aching in my heart for my mom. There doesn't have to be a specific reason, I could have had a great day with her or just going on with my daily life. It can hit at anytime and I ache. I can remember her and the way she was. I think to myself how even though she is treated with the greatest of dignity at the nursing home, how embarrassed she would be that they help her with everything. That makes me ache. It makes me ache for the person she was. I ache for the fact that she doesn't do much on her own anymore. I ache when she is trying to say a word and it doesn't come out right.

I ache when those memories hit me of the way life was before. I can sometimes see it so clearly and yet it seems like a lifetime ago. I ache sometimes at night as I worry is she lonely. I ache for the fact that I will never see her the way she was on this side of heaven. When I think of the time that she will leave this world to be healed in Heaven my heart just aches. What will I do when she is gone?

Mother's Day 2011

A Mother's Love

Helen Steiner Rice

A mother's love is something that no one can explain

It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain.

It is endless and unselfish and enduring, come what may,

For nothing can destroy it or take that love away.

It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking,

And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking.

It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns,

And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems.

It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation,

And it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation

A many splendored miracle man cannot understand

And another wondrous evidence of God's tender, guiding hand.

I miss you, mom. I ache inside. I ache for the person you were and for who you are now. I ache because you loved to walk and now, you don't want to. I ache when I hear you try to say words and they don't come out right. I ache because you have to be helped with everything and I know that must get tiring. I ache because I can't take care of you by myself in my home. I try to be strong, but inside....I ache. I cry and I miss you so much.

Another year, Another Birthday

It probably seems weird that I would talk about my birthday on a blog about my mom. The truth is that birthdays and holidays are so hard without her. Oh, I know she isn't dead..but she is not the same mom I knew. I miss her so much, especially on my birthday. My mom would always buy the most beautiful birthday cards and if it wasn't enough the words on the card, she would then fill the card in with her own words. I wish there was a way I could share them on here. Her words were always so encouraging and uplifting. I would always hear how proud she was of me and how much she loved me. I am so glad that I have kept all her cards. I take them out and read them. It is so very painful and yet, I eat up her words all over again.

I will see my mom on my birthday. I always like to see her. Yes, it is hard because she doesn't really know I am her daughter and she definitely doesn't know it is my birthday. But when I am with her, I feel a little more whole. I selfishly pray that she stay stable for a while. She is a big part of who I am today. She was a great mom. She taught me so much. I miss talking to her about life. I miss taking walks with her. I am afraid of the day that she passes. Oh, I know she will be healed and with her family. But I am afraid she will take a big part of me with her.

I love you, mom and I ache so many times for you. I wish for just a few moments....we could talk again. I wish I had taken more pictures with you when I was growing up. I keep looking in boxes of pictures thinking there will be new pictures of us, that I didn't see before. I wish I could tell you thank you. Thank you for being a great mom. Thank you for raising me up to know and live for God. Thank you for your example of faith. I see more of you in me, as I get older. It is a good thing. I am proud to be like you.

Little Blessings

This picture was taken on Sunday morning at the church service at the nursing home. I treasure this photo. I have learned to treasure many things these days. I have learned to call them little blessings. When this disease takes over your loved one, you can sometimes overlook the small things. The things that for just a moment say, life is okay.

My favorite little blessings:

Her giggle. She can start to giggle at the most random time. But to me, that means she is happy and content. It is a beautiful sound.

At times, I think she gets restless....so, she starts to scoot in her wheelchair. She just takes off and I follow. The whole times saying, "Go, Mom, Go." To me, it means she still is using her legs and her brain.

Those at the nursing home who go above and beyond their job. Those that I now call friend.

The times at church when we are singing a hymn, I turn to her and sing it to her. She gets a big smile on her face. Or when she taps her foot along to the beat of music being played on a bagpipe.

When we sang Happy Birthday to a resident and my mom sang the last verse. The words weren't exactly right, but she sang.

Most people would overlook these little moments. But to me, they are little blessings. They are little reminders that my mom is still in there somewhere. Yes, the disease is changing her and continues to take her from me. But God continues to be faithful to the both of us and continues to give me these little blessings.

Run

My sweet mom, this disease continues to take you away from me. Even looking back at pictures of last year and seeing the difference now. She is more tired these days. I don't know if that is from not sleeping well at night or her body is just tired. The conversations are not what they used to be. Her words are more jumbled and don't always make sense. I still think she recognizes me a little. I love when she gets the giggles.

Sometimes I wish I could run and keep running until all of this goes away. I want her back. I want my mom back. I want to be able to talk with her and take walks like we used to. I want to be able to share life again. I hate this disease. I hate when it has done to my mom. It has changed both of our worlds forever.

I try to be strong and not let it bother me. I try to see God's purpose for this. I try to remind myself that He is in control and knows what He is doing. But sometimes, I just want to run.

Same Person?

I came across this picture as I was cleaning my office. It made me stop and think for a while. It made me think how can the person in this picture, be the same person I see now? How can my mom, who loved to do crafts, paint, and write family letters, be the same person who can no longer do those things?

She would read and pray for an hour each day and can no longer read anymore. She would love to take walks and now, she doesn't remember how. How can they be the same person?!

This picture seems like a lifetime ago. It is hard to believe we are 7 years into this disease. I force myself at times to look at the old pictures and remember what she used to be like. It is so hard at times. I find those memories slowly fading and being taken over by who she is now. I also find myself seeing her in me lately. There are many times I can say to myself, "that is what my mom would say or do." It is not a bad thing. My mom was a wonderful, godly woman. I hope that I am like her. I hope that when loved ones and friends of my mom look at me, maybe they see her in me. She has always been a big part of my life. I think that is why I selfishly want to keep her around. I am afraid of the day when she is gone.