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

angry and unpleasant to be around in the last year. Now that Mom is gone (it’s been just a little over a month), I miss her physical presence very much. I found a voice mail from her on my cell phone a couple of weeks ago where she sounded like my “real” mom and not “dementia” mom. Thankfully I saved it, because the very next day after I had it recorded it was auto-deleted from my voicemail. I hope you will always have your sweet memories of your mom, and I’m so sorry that this horrible disease is taking her from you. Mom died on August 8, and while I miss her so much I wouldn’t want her to continue on the way she was.

Love,

Annabelle

Just as she once protected and cared for you, you now honor her by protecting and caring for her, Lisa. Thank you for sharing these experiences. They help us learn from one another by exchanging ideas.

—The Caregiver’s Voice

(a virtual support group)

I thought about my eighty-two-year-old mother-in-law with dementia whom we love dearly. Joy sustains us as well. One thought I just had was that we live in the present more with her, since the past is disappearing. Being with her helps me appreciate the moment—flowers, clouds, scents, color. Reading your post made me feel in good company. Thanks for writing this.

—Katrina

September 14, 2012

Is My Name Lisa?

As my mom awoke in her home of twenty-four years, she exited from her bedroom and saw her caregiver Elaine sitting in her living room. Mom questioned if she was there to take care of her. Elaine answered that she was, and Mom then stated that she was hungry and wanted to know if Elaine could make her something to eat. This was a good sign, for some days she is not very hungry.

As they entered her kitchen, she wanted to know where she should sit. In some ways she has become like a young child, yet not totally. When I got to speak to her, she wanted to know when I would be visiting, and added in that she hopes I know that I could stay as long as I want.

These words that came from her lips just melted my heart. “Mom, would you like me to come and live with you?” Her answer was, “I don’t think that you would really want to do that.” “In that case, I have a surprise for you. Gil’s coming to see you today.” Mom said, “That’s great, so I’ll see both of you.” With an upbeat tone she added in that she can hardly wait to see her kids.

I knew that I would not be seeing her for another two and a half months, yet I said nothing. I could try to explain, yet whatever I would say would not be understood and would soon be forgotten. As we continued our conversation, she quickly forgot about my brother coming to visit her.

“Mom, would you like to spell some words?” As I started our weekly exercise, starting at A and wanting to finish at Z, I asked her to spell England and then Hawaii. She stopped me on both and said, “I never heard of those words.” Mom had never heard of England or Hawaii? What was going on? Can Alzheimer’s have my mom’s world fade to nothing? Fortunately, there were other words she did recognize enough to spell.

I realized that at this moment there was some confusion. I decided to stop spelling and tell her again that my brother was coming to visit her. “Oh, my husband is coming,” she replied. “No, Mom, Gil is your son.” “I know he’s my son, I just call him my husband.” Okay, Mom, I thought. You’re close but you have this backwards.

Is there any harm if Mom thinks that my brother is her husband? I don’t think so. He visits weekly, and he is the only male figure left in her life. The important part now is that she still knows who he is.

The next day when I called, I heard Elaine, her caregiver, say, “Ruth, your daughter Lisa is on the phone.” This morning my mom answered with, “No, I’m Lisa.” As I heard her sweet voice I giggled and I said, “Mom, I’m Lisa, so what’s your name?” Mom answered with, “You tell me first.” We both laughed as I said, “Okay, Mom, it doesn’t matter, we can just call each other sweetheart.” I thought to myself how quick and sharp her answer was. Was Mom trying to cover up her mistake or perhaps her not knowing?

Once again, it does not really matter. Mom somehow was able to understand her own confusion. So I started to serenade her with the song, “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” and my mom joyfully joined in.

There are parts of conversations that we still can share. She has her good days and off days. I do realize that Mom is sliding backwards from Alzheimer’s, yet somehow she is still able to hang in there. Her strength and her courage absolutely amazes me.

Several years ago she became my hero, and today she still can warm my heart with much joy. She brings a smile to my face. Although parts of her are now lost, I hold on tightly to all that we still can share.

COMMENTS

Another lovely, heartfelt post that has made me bite my lip to hold back some tears. I am touched by the way in which you interact with your mom on the phone. It’s beautiful and inspiring.

—Jilian

Hi Lisa,

Last week was tough, but this week has been a good one for my mom, except she is being very clingy. She wants to be with me every second. She cried last night because I won’t sleep with her. I have sleep issues and get anxious if I sleep in the same bed with someone. I worry I’m going to wake them because I’m very restless. I’ve been