My Mom My Hero: Alzheimer's - A Mother and Daughter's Bittersweet Journey by Hirsch, R. (book recommendations .TXT) 📕

be gone. I started the conversation by telling her that Logan would be staying at my house for a week while studying for a test. I explained that he had three roommates, and after working all day it was hard for him to study in his apartment. Not only did my mom listen, she also was able to make comments about him and ask me several questions.

Being in the moment, Mom was able to speak about Logan, her one and only grandchild, with pride and deep love. She sentimentally reminisced about how sweet and kind he is. Could this really be a miracle? You see, Mom on most days cannot follow a conversation and even more frequently does not remember her grandson’s name.

From far away each day as I speak to her, I try to stimulate her mind by the use of words, questions, and spelling and singing. There are times she rushes me off the phone by saying, “I’m going to hang up now.” I answer her that I just called, and Mom says anyway, “I’m going to say goodbye.” “That’s okay, Mom, just before you hang up, you need to throw me my kisses.” And once again that is how our phone calls always end. I catch her kisses, as when I was a young child, and safely place them in my pocket.

I am able to enjoy all the words my mom still can say. I do not question the other parts. What would be the sense? It would only upset me, so I choose to appreciate and savor what I still can call these special moments. Are they miracles? Or perhaps magic? To me it does not really matter.

COMMENTS

Lisa,

Your testimony reached directly to the heart. My mother is also sick Alzheimer’s for almost a year. I think the hardest part is seeing the person who previously was strong, intelligent, cheerful become gradually unhappy, confused. This is difficult. But we must help our moms feel safe and surrounded. Make a prayer for them. Thank you, Lisa.

—Alana

I can’t read your blogs without tears filling my eyes. My heart and mind drift back to the days we were caring for my mom. But I feel honored to get to share in your journey.

—Holly

Hi Lisa,

You are really lucky. I know what you are talking about. I work as a caregiver in a nursing home in Germany. Some of my clients suffer from dementia, without suffering. They are open-minded, in a good mood, and sometimes able to feel and do things that can change a moment into a miracle. It is just this that makes me go on.

—Paul

Yes, it’s truly a disease where we all live in the moments and are grateful for those moments of seeming clarity. Happy Easter!

Wonderful story! Thank you for sharing it with me (and the cyber-world).

—Laurel

Hi Lisa,

My mom suffers from this horrendous disease also, and your story really hit home. So far this has happened to me twice, where she was as lucid as you and I. And like your mom, she no longer knows her grandchildren’s names and has been forgetting mine as well. She knows I am her daughter, but that’s it. The moments you are speaking of sure seem like miracles to me, and I savor every one of them. Aren’t they great? I wish they would last forever. I see her every other day and call her every night to say, “Sweet dreams, I love you.” It’s not easy.

—Geraldine

April 22, 2012

In Mom’s World,

Do I Laugh or Cry?

This week in every conversation that I shared with my mom, who has Alzheimer’s, I found many joyous and upbeat moments. That is until today.

The week started with my mom and I being excited that I would be coming to see her in twenty-four days. I told her that the countdown began, and she asked me to write it down and send it to her, so she would remember. There is absolutely no point in doing that, so I decided to start a counting exercise with her every day. “Mom, can you count backwards for me starting at twenty-four and ending at zero?” Mom declared with much enthusiasm, “Of course, I can do that,” and she immediately started to count. She started, “Twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one…” so quickly and correctly, until she reached zero.

I was amazed how her memory, when it came to counting and no less backwards, just like her spelling, was so refreshingly spontaneous. I then asked her to count backwards skipping two at a time, and she immediately said, “Twenty-four, twenty-two, twenty, eighteen…” until she once again reached zero. I was intrigued and wondered how she was able to do this?

I laughed with her, as I told her that her memory works so well backwards, that maybe she should stand upside down. We then sang some songs, as we both giggled about silly little things we said to each other. Most importantly we shared some wonderful moments. Tomorrow will be twenty-three days until I arrive. I can hardly wait.

The next day I reminded Mom that my brother would be coming to see her. As I continued to joke with her and keep our conversations both simple and light, I told her that she was so lucky to have Gil as her son. Mom answered immediately saying, “Yes, I am one lucky lady, and I love you and Gil so very much.” My heart just melted as I said, “We are also so lucky to have you as our mother.” She answered with, “Thank you so much for saying that to me.” I hung up the phone with a big smile on my face, and a heart filled with much love. Only twenty-two days until I get to see my mom.

The day after when I called, Elaine her caregiver was laughing as she answered the phone. She told me that my mom had just finished telling her