(Time Period: About two years after Mom moved into memory care.)
When Mom first showed signs of a failing memory, I found myself using a certain word and asking the same thing repeatedly. That single-worded question was this: “Remember?”
That’s your niece, Gloria, your sister Rose’s daughter. Remember?
That’s when you and Dad took a trip to Hawaii. Remember? Read more
(Time Period: About a year after Mom moved into the smaller assisted living home with memory care.)
“I ordered Grace the Alzheimer’s pajamas.”
“Okay,” I responded, “What are Alzheimer’s pajamas?” Read more
“Does she know you?” That’s the question everyone asked and I understand why. There is much anguish in anticipating that someone you love deeply and know intimately might not respond with that familiar smile. Read more
“She smiled and acknowledged us. It was a good visit.” My friend Ira described a 15-minute interaction with his mother who was confined in a memory care facility during the height of the pandemic. With plexiglass restrictions and no-touch rules, it was especially heartbreaking. That Sunday, receiving a smile from his mother made it a fraction more bearable. Read more
(Time Period: In the last few months of my mother’s life while she received hospice care.)
In the final months of my mother’s life, I sat by her bedside while she rested, played soft music and even watched a bit of the Food Network with her when she was up for it. The days ebbed and flowed with the overall direction clear but the exact timing unknown. Overall it was a peaceful phase. Read more
(Time Period: Two days after moving my parents to Arizona, in a relative early phase of Mom’s progression with Alzheimer’s.)
It was 10:00 p.m. Dad was downstairs watching TV and Jess and I had just gotten into bed. Light from the guest bathroom down the hall was streaming through the small window above our bedroom door. Mom was getting ready for bed but it had been a while and Jess suggested that I check on her. Read more
The faith language contained in some posts under the With Grace topic is an integral part of my mother’s story and that is the context in which I share it. If it differs from your faith tradition or spirituality, I invite you to adapt it to your own. While cherishing my faith, I respect the richness of different faiths and marvel at the intersections where we can meet. Read more
In Part 1, I relayed two stories about strangers who offered the joy of connection during periods of difficulty and crisis. Today’s post is about opportunities for connection that exist in everyday interactions.
I was at Joseph’s, one of our favorite neighborhood markets and in a rush. On this Sunday morning during the holiday season, the market was crowded and I hoped to zip in and out quickly. After grabbing a head of lettuce, tomatoes and some flat-leaf parsley, I beelined it to the rotisserie chickens. Once at the checkout line, I reached down into my grocery cart and single-handedly pulled out one of the two containers. Big mistake. Read more