View From the Fog

Today gives me pause to stop and wonder...What would it be like to literally crawl inside the mind of an Alzheimer's patient for even a hour?  What is it that goes on in there?  I think it would help me so much to understand the world from their viewpoint.  I might know better what to say, do, feel.  Mom is slipping from us so quickly.  She has frequent delusions which she can remember for weeks! What's with that anyways, but she cannot remember where she put her clothes?  The mind is a strange, wonderful, complex and poorly understood entity.  Yesterday, mom told my sister how she was so amazed that my sister was related to that man they had breakfast with.  My sister replied, "You mean Dad?" "Well, that's what you keep calling him.  He such a nice man and he has helped me so much through all of this."  Praise Jesus that she is not afraid of him.  I pray that would continue.

Last week I spent the day with Mom and Dad helping them do some fall baking.  It was a very nice day.  Mom enjoyed the activity, but I was amazing at the lack of initiation she showed to become involved.  She had to be cued to do something very basic, but in a minute had to be 're-cued'. So many typical "alzheimer" type of things were going on.  She put the produce from their shopping trip the day before into the freezer, she couldn't stop ruminating about the leftover apples in the bowl on the counter.  She just wanted to figure out what they would do with them.  Well, we had spent 10 minutes looking for the lid to that bowl, but to no avail.  Finally I put some plastic wrap on the bowl and stuck in the fridge.  She never brought it up again.  "Out of sight, out of mind." She pulled me into the bedroom to recount for me the little boys that had been there weeks before (Her delusion).  She said that they were handicapped and did not respond to her, but if she sang to the one little boy he would smile.  If she truly did that, I really wished I could have seen it.  I bet she sang "Jesus Loves Me".  But perhaps it was just in her mind.  But now, "They tell me they are gone."  she says.  The only thing I knew to say was, "Well, it's so nice you don't have to worry about that any more."

I used her beautiful old (and I mean OLD) Singer sewing machine while I was there to do some quick mending.  (Us 'sandwich' folks, don't often have sewing machines.)  I, of course, couldn't remember exactly how old it was and I asked her if she got it when they got married almost 60 years ago.  She said a few things that did not necessarily make sense to me, but then said that her mother-in-law had given it to her as a gift with some inheritance money she had received. Oh, the hours that she has spent at the beautiful old machine.  Each one of the famous "Nanny Blankets" were made while sitting at that machine.  Four daughters were taught to sew and I know my children were taught by her on that machine as well. They would make pillows and other beautiful creations to bring home after a day of "spoiling" at Nanny's house. It reminded me of the beautiful quilts that she has made.  Perhaps a few pieced quilts, but mostly either needle work or plain off-white with the most beautiful, intricate patterns that you could possibly imagine.  She could stitch 11 or more stitches to the inch; which in quilting terms is nothing short of amazing.  Each stitch was perfect and uniform.  Gorgeous.  I have an incredible quilt that I will try to post a picture of.  My children each have a quilt along with their Nanny blankets.  I remember telling my husband that someday I would take out those beautiful works of love and cry.  And I will...

This coming weekend Mom will meet her fourth great-grandchild for the first time. They are coming for a visit.  Four generations of girls....how cool is that? I hope many, many pictures are taken.  I hope that Jen gets a video of Mom singing "Jesus Loves Me" to baby Elena.  Jesus does love Mom, just as He does us.  He has not forgotten or forsaken her or any of us.  And none of us...I mean NOT ONE, could ever go through this if she herself had not equipped us so perfectly for  it.  She is the one who taught us compassion, humility, caring, sacrifice, remaining positive and always look for something that can be brought out of the situation to help someone or strengthen oneself. And perhaps most importantly that God can be trusted in ALL things.

Jesus love me....even through the fog.

It Was A Good Day

Each morning had a certain crispness in the air.  The sun shown bright while the gentle breeze blew each day, the same as the one before it.  Odd for Nebraska.  I often called this the "make-up fall".  The one preceeding it was trecherous; cold, nasty and unrelenting. (We won't even bring up Winter!) On this beautiful October day, I found myself driving to my hometown to spend time with my mom and then bring her back to Lincoln to watch my oldest daughter, Bailey, play volleyball. When I arrived, Mom was standing in the garage waiting for my impending arrival.  I called her when I was about 30 minutes away.  She had remembered I was coming, but was uncertain of the time. Since I am often running late, it is the perfect excuse to let her know that I will always call her when I am on the way. We headed over to a local fast food restaurant.  Knowing she likes soup, I told her what they were serving.  "Oh yes, I'll have that!" she said when I said they were serving chili.  Never one to ever appear to have a strong opinion about such things, I found it humorous that she would be so bold with her choice.  She loved it and devoured ever last bit. She is so thin.  Even thinner than she was in her prime.  She once said to me, "I weigh every once in awhile and if I weigh less that 113, I just have to eat like mad."  Wow, what a problem to have!  Often, now we fear that she forgets to eat, especially when dad has been gone in the field for harvest.


After lunch we set off for the pumpkin patch.  She had made it quite clear that she did not have any desire to have those things sitting around her house.  But I remember the days when she would buy dozens of them and paint them all sorts of colors and characters.  Clowns, sad faces, funny faces, scary faces....they were precious. Many people with Alzheimer's tend to hoard their possessions.  Not my mom!  The opposite would be quite true.  Most of the time we can't find many towels in the house and while she has never been one to have clutter standing around or anything on her kitchen counters, this now seems to be even more exaggerated.  I bought some pumpkins for our home and she really seemed to enjoy browsing through the Christmas shop.  We drank some apple cider while we looked at the various snowmen, angels and manger scenes.


We headed toward the game and it was wonderful to visit with her as we drove. She seemed to do so well; especially if I was directing the conversation and asking her questions.  She talked about her daughter Joyce and her growing up in the depression.  One thing that she said to me that I had never heard before was that shortly after they lost this daughter, someone had said to her, "Well, at least she wasn't a real person yet, she probably didn't look like much yet."  Mom said that this was the thing that probably hurt her the most "during that time".  However, anytime the conversation went idle, she would begin to talk about the "men" in the house.


She so enjoyed watching Bailey play.  She seems to do well in that environment and always knows to cheer at the right time and of course, thinks her granddaughter is so very special. It hurts me so much to think that she will most likely not see her get married.  She will not hold her children or sing "Jesus Loves Me" to them.


But you know what?  THAT was a good day.  I cherish the good days and will continue to do so for as long as the Lord would see fit.  I believe we will let Bailey provide the next blog entry.  She wrote a beautiful speech for a class about her "Nanny".  I hope she will share it along with her special thoughts. :)