Blog 77: One Year Later | The End

July 9^th marked the one-year anniversary of my mom’s passing.  This past year has been a time of learning how to live without my mom.  Her death was the greatest loss I have ever known.  As time goes on the permanency of her absence does not make things easier.  Just when I think I have a handle on it and the pain isn’t so bad anymore, something will trigger a memory and I’ll cry without a moment’s warning.  It’s been rough but I keep plugging away.   I’ve heard you can’t put a time limit on grieving and I’ve also heard people say they’ve never stopped grieving.  I keep telling myself it has to get easier. 

My four sisters and I were on a path of destruction when our mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s/dementia.  Our differences of opinions concerning Mom’s care, and our lack of communication, caused our sisterhood to shatter.  I mentioned before that we were drowning in our own ocean, sinking in the abyss.  That disease and what it did to our family is something I would not wish on my worst enemy.   I blame the disease, but I also accept responsibility for my part.  Each one of us has to do that in order to move forward in healing those wounds.    We have made some progress in reconciliation.   Some of us have, anyway.  I believe we will get there but it’s going to take a little more time. 

All of my sisters came to my daughter’s wedding last month.  I was so happy they came.  We had a good time and talked and laughed and danced.  We hugged each other as we danced to the song, “We Are Family" by Sister Sledge.  It was the way it should be, and I got a glimpse of what I know it will be like again one day. 

I don’t think too much about my mom’s last years when she was sick.  I focus more on the earlier memories when Mom was vibrant and happy.  I just don’t go to the sad memories.  It’s like my mind reverts to the happiest of times.  It still makes me cry, though.  I’m just so happy to have so many wonderful memories of my mom and our family and pictures to help keep those memories alive.  She was a great mom.  She was loved so very much.  Right now I am putting together a slideshow to honor her.  Every time I work on it, and going through the pictures, my eyes burn from crying.    

I will honor my mom for the rest of my life.  I truly feel her presence every day.   Sometimes I look for a sign and other times she sneaks up on me, reminding me that she is right here, right beside me.   I’ve come to believe that every time my wind chimes make that sweet sound, it’s my mom saying, "Hi, my daughter.  I'm here."  When I pick up a paint brush to paint a picture, mom is watching.  When my grandchildren wrap their arms around me, my mom is in there, too.  I could give you a hundred examples.  Mom took a piece of us to heaven with her and she left a piece of herself in us…so we are together forever.

Before I leave you, I want to thank you, my readers, for sticking with me and following along on my blog.  It’s been almost a year since my last post.  I just couldn’t find the words after my mom died.  It was really difficult to write this one, too.  Some of you have inquired as to how I am doing and I feel so fortunate to have had such caring, faithful readers.  I’ve checked here from time to time and have noticed that some days I still get hundreds of visitors.  Maybe I am helping someone on their journey with Alzheimer’s.  I hope so.  I hope people learn from the mistakes my family made.  I hope new readers will start from the beginning and read all of my posts to know just what can happen when a horrible illness like Alzheimer's strikes and how a loving and close family can fall apart when you stop communicating.  My first blog post can be read here...Blog 1: The Beginning.  Having my blog has served its purpose for me, and been a savior in some ways, but now this chapter of my life has ended, and I feel it’s time to let it go.  This will be my last post.  If I feel compelled to write again, I will.  I am not making any promises.   Thank you again to all of you for your prayers and comforting words.  May God Bless each and every one of you!

Note:  I am adding this in later, but I realized I didn't address the issue of my mom's autopsy report from my last blog post.  The Coroner's report stated that my mom died from a. acute pneumonia (hours), b. recent fractures of the left humerus and femur (4 days), and lastly, other conditions contributing to, but not related to the terminal conditions, is dementia.  Aside from having osteoporosis, my mom's body was healthy.  I had to have my daughter come over so we could read the report together because I was just too emotional.  Reading your own mom's autopsy report is so sad. It's hard to accept the fact that my mom ultimately died as the result of a spiral fracture of her humerus, and fractured femur, that she received when an aide took her in the bathroom to bathe her.  We are still struggling with this.        

Blog 74: My Mom Is An Angel in Heaven

I don’t even know where to begin to describe the past three weeks.  Oh, how life changes in an instant.  I always said life is precious and you should never take it for granted.  I started this blog post a couple of times and just couldn't find the words to express my pain and heartache.  I will try again.  I am in mourning and grieving the loss of the most wonderful mom I could have ever had.  Blogging doesn't seem important now.  I just need to tell you all that my mom is gone.  She is gone.

I flew back to Chicago on June 27^th for one of my regular visits with Mom.  I was feeling pretty good about things for a change.  On June 30^th I was sitting on the deck of the group home with my mom.  We were enjoying the beautiful sunny day.  I looked up to the sky and saw this cloud, in the shape of a heart.  I felt like this was a sign that everything was going to work out.  Everything was going to be ok.  Plans were being made to move Mom back to her hometown and the meeting with my sisters was finally going to happen.  The next day, on July 1st, all of my sisters got together and we visited our mom before we had our important meeting.  Annie arrived late so she wasn’t with the rest of us when we visited Mom, but she went to see her after our meeting.  She said she walked in and Mom said, “Annie!”  Annie hadn’t been to see my mom in six months.  Not that she didn’t love her, she was just having a hard time accepting everything Renee put us through.

Mom seemed tickled to have us all there and she appeared somewhat sad when we said goodbye.   We girls went to a restaurant to have our family meeting to discuss what to do with our mom now that her money was about gone.  There we were, all five of us sitting down and talking.  Finally!  We got along with each other, though I have to admit there was a little tension and apprehension.  After all, it had been four years since we ALL sat down to talk.   We came up with a plan for the next phase of Mom’s care.  After considering the possibility of me coming back and hiring help and renting an apartment for us, it was agreed upon that Annie was going to bring Mom home to live with her in August.  She has her husband and daughters to help her.  I was so surprised that Renee agreed to it, but we were all facing the only other choice we had, which was Mom going to a nursing home with a Medicaid certified bed.  None of us wanted that.   I think Renee finally realized that being with family was better than that option.  Mom was finally going home.  I felt good about our meeting and reconnecting with my sisters. 

The next day during my visit with Mom, I told my mom that she was going to go back home.  She didn’t fully understand, but when I told her she was going to get to see her great grandson more, she did understand that, and she got choked up. Things were looking good.  Mom was doing as good as could be expected.  She was still recognizing her daughters, though she couldn’t say everyone’s names.  She still called me Lizzie.  Mom even let me give her a foot massage.  I was surprised to see how pretty her feet still looked.  I sang You Are My Sunshine to her everyday and held her hand and told her I love her many times during my visits that week.  Mom often told me she loved me back, though sometimes she would just say, “Good, I’m glad.”  Or, “I know you do.”  We had our usual golden moments, when Mom said something so meaningful, just out of the blue.  I am so glad I took notes and have a record of those meaningful things she said.  I took pictures and videos, and thank God I did a lot of that.  The last video I took of my mom was so cute.  She was smiling, laughing, and whistling.  Then at the end of the video I told her I love her and she said, “I love you, too”, with a smile on her face and that endearing look of a mother’s love.   I wish I could post that video right here, but I am still wanting to protect the privacy of my family. 

On July 5^th, I arrived at the group home and I could hear Mom whistling in her room.  Whistling and whispering were her new things.  We had an hour together.  It was to be the last hour that I could share beautiful moments with my mom.  The last time I would hear her voice and hear her say she loves me, and the last time I would see her beautiful blue eyes.    I fed her lunch during that hour.  She ate a jelly sandwich and I gave her some chocolate afterwards.  She chatted with my son on the phone from California.  Then, everything changed.  An aide arrived and took my mom to the bathroom for her bath.  I was in another room talking to my sister on the phone and I turned around to see the aide raise my mom from her chair.  

In an instant, life as we knew it changed.  My mom went into the bathroom a whole person, and she came out about 20 minutes later with a broken body.  She couldn’t walk and she was bent over and trembling.  I rushed to the bathroom and saw her like that.  Something happened in there.   The aide said she needed help and I called out to the caregiver to bring the wheelchair.  They put mom in the wheelchair and took her back to her room and then put her in her chair.  The aide said nothing to me or anyone else about what happened.  Mom said she hurt and the aide said she’s never seen my mom like that.  

After the aide left, it didn’t take long before I realized my Mom was really hurt.  She was clearly distressed.  Not knowing the severity of her injuries, I tried to calm her down and reassure her that everything will be ok.  Mom was making comments that she didn’t like the aide and that she couldn’t move her arms and that it hurts.   I felt up and down my mom’s arms and noticed she had a hard lump in her left arm.  I didn’t know it was broken.  I thought it was a pulled muscle, maybe.  I just had no idea.  The two caregivers there put cream and an icepack on it.   One of the caregivers was a nurse for 30 years.  Mom’s arm began bruising in her armpit area and down the inside part of her arm.  Finally, after repeated attempts to reach Renee, she showed up.  Several hours after the incident, Mom was transported to a hospice hospital, at Renee's direction, and four days later she was dead. 

Not only did my mom suffer a spiral fracture of her humerus on her left arm, but the next day they found that her left hip was broken too.  The doctor said she was too weak to survive these kinds of injuries and surgery was not an option.  At first Renee was talking alone to the nurses and doctors, but she finally let us all in to hear what they were saying.  She didn't need to be secretive anymore.  I couldn’t believe my mom was going to die.  Mom was put on a very low dose of subcutaneous Morphine, which the doctor said was kind of like a vicodin.  I asked why she won’t wake up and the doctor said, “because your mom is dying.”  Eventually they had to up her dose of morphine because Mom was in too much pain. 

I stood at her bedside and watched the life go out of her. Was this really it?  Was this how she was going to die?  It wasn’t going to be a peaceful death either, because she was hurting!  It wasn’t fair!!!  I watched her wince in pain and I saw the fear in her face.  She tried to say something to Renee and me.  We couldn’t understand her and she seemed a little frustrated as she repeated herself.  We could not make out what she was trying to say. Maybe she was trying to tell us what happened to her.  Mom couldn’t eat, not even ice cream.  God, that hurt to see my mom like that.  I could hear her tummy growling.  She was starving, but she was dying, too.  I could hardly eat.  In fact, it was days before I could eat anything without crying and feeling guilty.  I just couldn’t eat when my mom couldn’t eat.

My sisters all gathered together and some of us spent the night and slept on couches.  We took shifts holding our mom’s hand.  Mom squeezed our hands and we didn’t want let go unless there was someone else there to take over.  We didn’t want her to be alone or to be afraid. We wanted to be close to her and we all assured our mom that we love her and always will.  All of us took turns saying what we needed to say.  We told her that we are all together and we are all good, and for her to not worry about us.  We said we’ll take care of each other. The doctors had told us that she can hear us even if she can’t respond.  We made sure she knew we loved her.  

Towards the end it was just awful.  By then several of Mom’s grandchildren were there.   Annie arrived late, but she made it in time.  She got there after the nurses moved mom to her final resting position.  They placed her on her side so that her breathing would be easier.  Two chaplains had paid a visit on that last day.  Prayers were said, tears were constant, though we tried not to let Mom hear us cry, and Mom was slipping away fast.   We didn’t want her to die but it was too painful watching her die that we just wanted it to end.  But how could we survive without her?

The chaplain told us that she may want to go alone.  Mom knew we were all in the room with her, once Annie finally arrived.  Mom even tried to raise her head when she heard Annie's voice.  Mom was a very private person and she cared very deeply for her family.  I think when my mom knew we were all there, that’s when she was ready to let death claim her.  We all took turns saying goodbye and telling her how much she means to us and that it’s ok to go now so she doesn’t have to be in pain.  I told Mom to not be afraid.  Her body was trembling.  I said Jesus is waiting for you, Mom, and we will be together again one day.  I told her we will take care of each other until we see her again.  I told her we will never be apart, that we will keep a piece of her with us and she will take a piece of us to Heaven with her.  

It was just too painful to watch her as she was showing all of the signs that the end was near. The nurse said Mom was semi-comatose.  We reluctantly all left the room, in case Mom wanted to die alone.   The chaplain stayed with her for awhile.  I went down the hall to call my son.  A few minutes later my niece ran to get me and she said, “She’s gone.”  I ran down the hall, as I saw my nephew running to get his mom, and others running into my mom’s room.  We were all there within seconds. She was just laying there, lifeless, with Annie holding her hand.  Annie had slipped back in the room and she was there when Mom took her last breath.  There was no more struggle to breathe.  She was free from the pain, but our pain was unbearable.  I dropped to my knees and held on to her and cried MOMMY!!!!  I was a little girl again, who needed her mommy.  Everything was so surreal.  The crying, everyone crying that awful cry when someone you love dies.  The chaplain was crying, too. 

Mom passed away on July 9th at 10:45 P.M.  My family moved about, going in and out of the room.  Those of us who could, and some couldn’t do it, but those of us who could, sat with her and talked to her some more.  Annie didn’t want to leave her.  She kept rubbing mom’s arm.  I held my mom’s lifeless hands, still being careful not to hurt her broken arm, and I said goodbye to my mom.  I walked out of the room and turned around to have one last look at her, with tears streaming down my face.  I wondered how I could ever survive life without my mom.  My hero was gone.  

Annie told me when she walked into the room our mom was looking straight ahead.  She was already on her last breath.  Annie told her to go to Grandma and Grandpa.  She said they are waiting to take her to Heaven with them.  She said that is when Mom took one more breath and then she stopped.  My daughter said that she had a vision of my grandparents standing behind Jesus, with open arms, reaching out for my mom.  I believe that happened. 

Sadly, an autopsy had to be done on my mom.  I hate that she had to have that done.  We have the preliminary report that said she didn't have a heart attack or stroke.  We are still waiting for the final results but we know what it's going to read.  Mom died as a result of her injuries. We are just waiting.  One thing I am sure of, my mom didn't fall.  She didn't have any bruises on her hip or the outside of her arm. The coroner's report is what everyone is waiting for, though I don't know if I will be able to look at it.    

My mom’s funeral was on July 12^th.  It was a beautiful service with more people there than I ever expected to see. It was so nice to hear the wonderful comments about my mom and see all the people who cared about her and our family.  I prepared a letter to my mom that I read during the service.  It was so hard for me to read it, through the tears, but I did it for my mom.  At the burial site, my sister's son, the oldest of the grandchildren, gathered all of us girls together.  He said that it took our mom a lifetime to build up this family and make it the loving family that she was proud of, and in a period of three years, we dismantled everything she worked so hard on building.  He asked us what he thought our mom would think about that, and he asked us if we are going to let this be it or are we going to work on making our mom proud of the legacy she left behind.  It’s something I always wanted, and I think we all did.  We just couldn’t get it together.  We hugged in a huddle and promised we will make our mom proud as she looks down on us from Heaven.  It will be a struggle at times since there was a lot of hurt and anger, and it will take time to heal, but I am hoping we can pull through this and be there for each other. 

I had to leave and go back to my home in Arizona, and I felt so terribly sad to leave my sisters behind.  That oldest sister in me, nurturing, wanting to comfort, wanting to protect my sisters, is back.  (She never really left.)  I feel for them because I am also feeling that same, awful pain they are feeling.  We describe it as feeling empty. Lynda said she feels like an orphan now that both of our parents are gone. Before I left, I went to a Monument place and picked out a headstone for my mom.  I selected a precious moments angel to go on the headstone.  The angel is releasing five hearts from her hand, representing my mom’s five daughters. 

I know my mom is in Heaven with Jesus and she is whole again.  She is no longer in pain, no longer living with Alzheimer’s, and she is an angel who is watching over her family.   She is not fully gone from our lives because she is living through us, it's just hard to not be able to see her again for the rest of my life.  After the funeral my family went to dinner and we talked and shared stories.  We even laughed.  Yeah, we even laughed, though we cried, too.  All of us girls stood outside in the parking lot after we finished our meal (which by the way, was the first time I could eat without crying), and we talked for another hour.  Just like old times, we had so much to say.  We have lots of catching up to do. We went for ice cream afterwards, and as my four year old granddaughter was licking her ice cream cone she walked over to a young couple sitting there and she said, “My big nana is in Heaven and she is an angel now.”  She is proud of her big nana, and to her, she is happy she's an angel.  She, and my wonderful family and friends are helping me get through this.  I didn't think I could go on, but somehow, some way, I am finding the strength to live.   

By the way, I will continue this blog.  Our journey is not over, so please check back from time to time.   

Blog 69: Feelings of Guilt | Talking on the Phone

Sometimes I like to make personalized cards for the special people in my life.  Here's a simple card I made for my mom on Mother's Day.  On the front is a picture of one of my paintings... 

It’s been three years since my move to Arizona.  So much has happened during that time, with Mom’s illness and the family struggles since then.  I’ve often beat myself up with feelings of guilt for even leaving Iowa in the first place.  What could I have done differently?  Would I have been able to keep Mom in her home longer?  Would I have been able to save our sisterhood?  I guess I’ll never know the answers to those questions. 

I do believe that I could have done a better job than what my sister has done in communicating with all my sisters and letting them know what’s going on with Mom.  I would not have isolated anyone.

I also believe that if I were in charge, Renee and I would be in huge conflict, just as we are now, but for different reasons.  So I think I just answered one of my questions. 

My mom chose me to take care of things, and I feel I let her down.  Way before she had Alzheimer’s she told me she never wanted Renee in charge of anything.  She told me that the day she had her Will prepared.  Her words keep resonating in my mind.   When am I going to be able to stop torturing myself for this?

Everyone tries to make me feel better.  My kids, two of my sisters, my friends, my mom’s sister, my mom’s friends and other family members, all tell me that it’s not my fault.  I didn’t create the problems that Renee created.  I didn’t know what Renee was going to do.  I couldn’t predict the future, and I believed Renee when she said she was going to do the best job for Mom, and that she was going to make sure we were all well-informed of every decision she makes. 

I don’t mean to be picking on Renee.  I’m sorry to keep bringing it up.  I know in her mind she thinks she’s doing an excellent job.  I sometimes wonder though if she is also beating herself up for the decisions she’s made.  I wonder.  I know she loves Mom just as we all do.  It’s just that we are so different in our beliefs.  I do know that Mom would be furious with her for some of the things she’s done, and on the same note, she’d probably be furious with me for letting it happen. 

All of that is in the past and the only reason why I am bringing it up now is that I have often wondered what I could have done differently.  Was there something I could have done to save our family and to grant some of those wishes Mom had?    

Kathy and I talked about some of these things on the phone the other day.  She’s so easy to talk to, and so is Annie.  Thank God I have them to talk to.  I asked Kathy if she ever calls Mom.  She lives a distance away from her and only travels to see her about once a month.  She said, “Oh no, Mom can’t talk on the phone anymore”.   I don’t even need to say where she heard that from but it’s the same person who told me that.  The thing about Kathy and Lynda is that they hear that and they automatically believe it to be true without even questioning it.  That’s where I am different.  I will try anyway, and when I do that it appears that I am challenging ‘authority’, meaning, ‘Renee’.

If I believed what Renee said, I wouldn’t have known that I can talk to mom on the phone.  If I tell Renee that I want to try to talk to mom, she gets mad at me.  That’s the problem we have with each other. 

It’s sad that Kathy believes that Mom can’t talk on the phone anymore because she is missing out on hearing Mom’s voice and having those sweet, touching moments with her.   Mom is missing out on hearing her daughter's voice, too. It’s her choice though if she doesn’t call and monthly visits are enough for her. 

I live too far away from my mom and I couldn’t bear to not have any contact with her between visits.  I can only get back to Illinois about every three months.  Just hearing her voice is all I need to feel comforted.  She used to only hold the phone to her ear for about 5 minutes before she would set it down, but for some reason the past few months she has been keeping that phone to her ear for 30, 40 and 50 minutes at a time!  I truly believe that she needs that comfort, that connection with me, with anybody who is on the other end of the line.   Otherwise she just sits in her chair, day after day, with hardly no visitors.   Loneliness is a feeling even Alzheimer's patients can feel.  

Mom’s two caregivers quit and now there is a new caregiver.  She gives Mom the phone and then leaves the room, so I have to do my best to keep her engaged and on the phone.  Somehow I’ve figured out how to do that.  She is better on the phone when no one else is in the room anyway.  Her phone skills are definitely not what they used to be, as her attention span, vocabulary, and communication skills have declined considerably.

Every time I talk to Mom I sing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ to her.  She used to sing it with me but not anymore.  The other day I sang it to her and I heard her crying.  I said Mom don’t cry, I want you to be happy, and she said she didn’t know what was wrong.  I hate that when she says that.  My mom knows there’s something wrong with her.  I think she has things she wants to say but she can’t get the words out.  It literally breaks my heart.

Once in awhile Mom says something that shows me that she is still that caring Mom she always was.  She asked me the other day how I was feeling.  I thought that was sweet.  I usually bring up things that I feel that she will remember, that are embedded in her mind.  She’s forgotten so much.  She did choke up when I mentioned her great grandson’s name.  She does remember that boy, and the feelings showed. 

I’ll be going to see my mom soon and I already know she doesn’t know my name.  She says my name sometimes but she doesn’t know that’s whom she’s talking to.  I believe she feels a familiarity with me and she feels comforted by my voice.  Kathy said that Mom doesn’t seem to know who she is anymore when she goes to see her.   Times are going to get harder. 

I know that deep inside my mom she will never forget us.  She has emotions inside of her that she can’t express but I can see those feelings of tenderness in her eyes.  We are a part of each other and never to be separated.  She senses that and is comforted. Mom will always love us until the day she closes her eyes and takes her last breath.  I believe that, even if she looks at me like I’m a stranger, she will know me deep in her heart.  I am comforted in that.  She will take with her all the love and wonderful memories of her daughters and her grandchildren, whom she loved with all of her heart and soul, and they will follow her in death.  We will have all of that love and those memories in our hearts too, so we will never be parted.   

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.”

Blog 67: The Other Part of Life | Keeping Life in Balance

My blog has been written with so much emotion and heartache.  I can be such an emotional wreck when it comes to my mom and what's happened with my sisters.  I’ve not spent much time writing about happy things.  It’s the nature of the subject, Alzheimer’s.  Seeing my mom suffer with this disease has been the worst thing I’ve ever had to endure.  But as I have said before, we all have to live our lives and find enjoyment and happiness, because we only have one shot at life.  We have to maintain that healthy balance in order to have any quality of life.  My mom would want that for me, and for all of her daughters.  I try my best to continue to live a life that my mom would be proud of because she was always so proud of me before.   She wants me to be happy, and that is the greatest gift I can give her.

"When life gives you a hundred reasons to cry, show life that you have a thousand reasons to smile."

Let me take you away from Alzheimer’s and dementia in this blog post and tell you a little bit about me and the other part of my life…

I am first and foremost a mom.  That is my primary role, and what I feel has been my purpose in this life.  Even though my kids are now adults, they are still and always will be my world.  I would do anything for them, and I learned how to love that way from my mom.  I am very much a family oriented person.  My life is not one of fame and fortune, or of making a huge difference in the world.  It’s about making a difference in the lives of the small group of people I have the privilege of sharing my life with.  

When I was a young woman, at 18 years of age, I married my high school sweetheart.  We had three absolutely wonderful children.  I stayed home and raised them until the youngest was in school.  I took a part-time job and eventually worked full-time when the kids were older.  Our kids were very involved in sports, dance, music, and drama, and we met ourselves coming and going with all of their activities, and our jobs.  We also designed and built (by ourselves) a log home in the country. 

The marriage lasted 25 years and we parted ways once we realized we grew up and grew apart.   My ex and I get along well with each other and make it a point to keep our family unit intact.  Our kids said that they had the best childhood, and a parent couldn’t ask for anything better than that.  I feel proud to have been a part of the reason for them feeling that way.

My oldest daughter is married, and has two little girls.   They live less than a mile away from me in Arizona, and are the reason why I moved here.  I wanted to be near my grandchildren, who are now 3 and 4 years old.  It’s wonderful to have these little ones around to make me smile, laugh, and feel young again.  Nothing feels as good as my little grand kids running into my arms, excited to see their Nana.

My son is my middle child, and he and his wife live in California.  They have an adorable little boy who is three years old.   When I made the decision to leave Iowa, I couldn’t afford to buy a house in Marin County, where my son lives.  Hence, I didn’t move there.  At least I am in closer proximity now and it’s easier to travel there from here.  It’s important for me to have a close relationship with all of my grandchildren, so between visits with my grandson, I keep in touch with him by phone and skype.  It's wonderful that we have the technology that allows us to see and interact with each other like this.  I am going to see them in person next weekend and I can’t wait!
  

My youngest daughter lives in Chicago and is engaged to be married next year.  I'm thrilled to have all of my kids married to wonderful people, who I consider my kids now, too.  I’m still working on trying to get them to move here but my daughter is not ready to leave yet.  I get to see her often since I go back to Chicago to visit my mom.   All of my children have grown up to be caring, compassionate, smart, successful, and loving individuals, and I couldn’t be prouder.   

Family is so important to me and I just wish all of my family could live near each other.  If Iowa would have had the job opportunities for my kids’ in their chosen careers, they wouldn’t have left Iowa and I’m pretty certain we would all still be living there.   Like many families, though, we are spread out across the country. 

I worked for many years in the social service field for not-for-profit organizations, then for a law firm, and lastly a financial planning firm.  I am 56 years old and retired.   My days are now spent working in my yard, blogging, volunteering, assisting my daughter with her photography business, traveling to see my family, working out at the gym, jogging, hiking, spending time with my friends, and now...wedding planning.  I’ve also taken up painting as a hobby and have set a goal to do two paintings a month.  I’m also big into organizing and I know exactly where everything is in my house.  I should have become a professional organizer.  :)

I love to travel and try to go someplace new every year.  Last year I went to Alaska for the first time.  I lived in Europe for one year in high school and went back to Europe for a month of traveling four years ago.  I’m adventurous and passionate for life, and always up for something fun to do.  I am enjoying this part of my life right now.  My friends are awesome and have been there for me so many times when I just needed to talk to someone.  They've filled the void where my sisters once were.  I have a man in my life, who is so supportive and wonderful to me.  I feel healthy, in shape, still look young (so I’ve been told), and am so grateful for many, many things.   I thank God for His blessings.

Is everything perfect in my life...(the life outside of Alzheimer's)?  No, not at all.  I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I know that that's just part of being human.  I just choose to be happy.  It's a choice. 

Those of you who are reading this and are living with someone with Alzheimer’s, please remember to take care of YOU.  Find a way.  Your loved one would want that for you.  Keep a healthy balance in your life.  It can’t all be bad.  Believe me, I know it can be hard at times.  Try to have fun and do something that makes you happy.  Life is short, and life can be taken away from us at any moment.   There’s a time and a place for living your life, and it is NOW. 

Blog 65: I Miss The Way It Used To Be

When I called for my mom, her caregiver woke her from a nap and handed her the phone.  Mom started crying when she heard my voice.   I asked her why she was crying and she told me she didn’t know.  But I could clearly sense that something was bothering her.  I told her I love her and I miss her and she said she loves me and misses me too.

Throughout our brief conversation my mom went in and out of crying.  I tried to cheer her by telling her that I will see her soon and that her great grandson can’t wait to come see her, too.  That made Mom giggle a little bit.  She just loves the little ones, and talking about them always seems to cheer her up.  

I named everyone’s names and told Mom we all love her very much, and I said I wish we could all hop on a bus and come see her and take her to the park.  She cried again.  I told Mom to be happy and I could hear her caregiver, who was helping Mom with the phone, tell her to not be sad.  Mom kept saying she’s not sad, but her crying indicated to me that she was.  I just can’t help but wonder what is on her mind.  I wish she could tell me.

I’ve noticed a pattern of behavior with my mom whenever she awakens suddenly.  She appears to be coherent right away, and it’s almost like she doesn’t have Alzheimer’s.  She sometimes says things that completely take me by surprise.  She’ll say a complete sentence, or she’ll mention someone’s name that she hasn’t said in a long time.  She usually seems more emotional and nurturing then, too. 

It’s so hard to describe, but I’m wondering if a person with Alzheimer’s has a section of their brain that is protected, and when they are in a deep sleep, this part of the brain is activated.  I’ve seen this type of behavior in my mom many times after she wakes from sleeping.  I wonder if she dreams the way we all do, and then when she wakes up, she almost feels and acts normal until she becomes fully awake, and the reality of Alzheimer’s comes back.  I tried to find some information about this online but couldn’t find anything. 

As far as my sisters…I called Kathy while she was at work the other day, because I knew that was the only way I could talk to her.  She usually doesn’t answer when I call her mobile phone.  I was surprised to hear how happy she was to hear my voice.  She commented on how long it’s been since we’ve talked and I told her she doesn’t answer when I call her.  I asked her if she was mad at me because she never calls.  She said she’s not mad at me, and she explained she has a lot going on in her life and her way of handling things is to keep to herself.  She said she doesn’t call anyone.   I told her I love her and I am always going to be there for her.  I expressed my sadness in not having my sisters to talk to during these difficult times with Mom’s illness.  I said we need each other now more than ever.  Kathy agreed with me, but still, I don’t see that things are going to change.  

I realized after talking to Kathy that the distance I feel from my sisters is probably due in part to the things they have going on in their own own lives.  It’s not about me.  It’s about them.  I need to stop taking it personally, letting my feelings get hurt, and losing sleep over it, even though I can't help but miss the way it used to be.