Mom didn't acknowledge me when I went to her and said hello. I can usually see a glimpse of recognition on her face, but not today. I wheeled her down to her room and positioned her by her bed in the sun. I turned on her favourite music station and sat on the bed to be close to her. As I gazed over her beautiful face, I noticed the hair on her chinny chin chin as she would say, was needing some attention, so I grabbed the tweezers out of her drawer and started to work. The first pull and Mom exclaimed 'Owie'! I apologized profusely and carried on. She was amazingly patient with me as I worked away. Afterwards, I gave her face, neck, arms and hands a rub down with a warm towel and massaged her skin with some cream. Then I brushed her hair. Mom seemed to be relaxed and jibber-jabbered on about not much of anything understandable. I was struck by how precious the moment was and wanted to stay there with her forever. I understand the meaning of precious moments are precious because they will never be had again.
I left her asleep in her chair.
Lisa and Phil. I can only attempt to share my gratitude for the things that you share on this blog. I am sure that sometimes it is difficult and maybe sometimes it can be cathartic to write down both your easy and at times challenging experiences.
ReplyDeleteI think what I appreciate most is the candor with which you are sharing. Not just the news and stories but the actual experience. I feel closer. Closer to you and closer to Diana.
Thank you.
Thank you for those kind words Vicky. It's nice to know that someone is reading the blog...sometimes I wonder.
DeleteIt's probably obvious that, while the blog is Dianna's blog, it is also a release for Lisa and I as we find it emotionally draining to visit her and see the impact Alzheimers is having on her daily. This is true on good as well as bad days. To write ones feelings and emotions helps to strengthen ones resolve to continue.
In this sense the blog is as much mine and/or Lisa's.