How Long Will it Last?

Mom was coherent today. In fact, she has been relatively clear for more than a week. I thought I understood Alzheimer's disease but this new pattern has me puzzled. Now that she is farther along in the course of the disease, she should be getting worse, not better. Not that I'm complaining, I'm just confused as this behavior is not expected. Mind you, she's not about to give a speech or live on her own...she's just making sense.

At dinner I told her about the Mexican dinner I had prepared and served to our friends. She said, "I know that was delicious." I told her I made gazpacho and asked if she knew what it was. She said, "I know what it is but I don't think I have ever ordered it." I told her about the chicken enchiladas and the Frozen Strawberry Margarita Dessert. True to form, she skipped over the enchiladas and asked about the dessert. She wanted to know what was in it and all of the details. Next I told her how my husband helped get ready for the company. I mentioned that since I still have a sore elbow, I can't vacuum. I said that he vacuumed the house and got into the pool and scrubbed it clean. She said, "He is such a wonderful man." "He is so kind to me."

She began to get antsy mid-way through dessert and I asked if perhaps she had to go to the bathroom. She said she thought she could. The three newer aides were on the case and immediately dropped what they were doing (and this was during a busy time) and took care of the situation. Sis and I had been bemoaning the loss of Donna, our favorite employee, but these new ones haven't had time to get burned out or frustrated by the low pay. It seems that we will survive the loss of Donna after all. Granted, there is a language barrier and they have to repeat themselves many times to get my hearing-impaired, Alzheimer's disease-ridden mother to understand anything they are trying to say. However, they don't appear to be annoyed with the system or their employers and cheerfully take good care of mom.

The aides got mom ready for bed and I told them I had to "L-E-A-V-E", spelling it out so mom wouldn't know. They got her comfortable in her lounge chair and left the room. I decided to put in a Pachebel tape to soothe her while, hopefully, she would drift off to sleep. I spent so much time trying to get the tape to work that I was there another 20 minutes. I asked her if she liked the music and she said it was beautiful but she bet I could sing much better than that. She went on and on about how I could sing better and I reminded her that she was the one with a beautiful voice. I told her if I could sing at all it was because I got it from her. I reminded her that she used to sing while doing the laundry. "Was this something we did together?", she asked. I told her, "No, I was probably just a teenager and doing my own thing but I grew up listening to you sing." I told her she would sing songs from some of the plays that she and dad had gone to see. She lit up at the mention of her husband. I handed her the picture of him and said, "Here is your handsome husband." She said, "I don't have a husband anymore." While I was quietly weeping, I managed to say, "Well, you had a good marriage." She said, "I had a good man, a wonderful man." I told her goodbye for the third time (I should have left when the getting was good) and she said, "I know, but I'm sad." I asked her why she was sad. She said, "Because I won't have you anymore." I told her I was her daughter and she would have me forever. After much hand holding and a very tender moment, she smiled at me and said, "If you mean it, that's good."

There are days when I am most eager to leave the home and get back to my world, away from the sadness and despair. When she is incoherent and not making any sense, it is easier to leave. Tonight was different. Tonight I had to tear myself away. I was enjoying my mother and our conversation. I didn't want to leave. Often, when I am leaving and saying goodbye, I think to myself that it may be the last time I will see her alive. Sometimes she is in such emotional pain that I think it would be best if she left and I silently say "goodbye forever." Tonight may be the last time I see her alive but it was a wonderful night. We had a great connection and expressed our love for each other. We brought each other joy. My mother was back, even if only for this short interlude. She was coherent. She was here. She was with me. She was the mother I will always remember, and never forget.