This week, mom turned 85 years old! But 85 is the new 60, right?! Physically, she’s in great health, and the doctors believe she could live several more years. Her mother lived independently in her own home until she was 95. And you don’t die from Alzheimer’s, you die with Alzheimer’s, so she could actually have significant time left. Still, we wanted to celebrate the milestone of turning 85.
A couple of weeks ago, we had a birthday party for mom. We rented a room at the facility where she lives, catered in food, decorated, brought gifts, and tried to make her feel like the special mom that she is. My brother and sister-in-law came in from Maryland, and my kids were home. We wanted a small gathering so as not to overwhelm her. The day before the party I took her to get a manicure, pedicure and her hair done. The salon staff doted on her, were patient with her Alzheimer’s uncooperating, and made her feel like a princess!
As a young adult, I made up this joke, which I thought was very funny at the time. “What’s the good thing about having Alzheimer’s? You meet new people every day. You can wrap your own Christmas presents.” OK, still a little but funny, but mostly lame. Obviously, that was before I was caring for someone with the disease. I went to see mom this week and take some cards and gifts that had been sent to my home for her. I told her it was her birthday, and she asked if we could have a party. In hindsight, I should have said “sure! I will put something together.” (Let’s just pause and all agree that I’m still a slow learner here…) Instead, I said “Mom we had a party.” No we didn’t! “Mom, do you remember Scott and Atchara coming in?” I haven’t seen them in years! So I pulled up some party pictures on my phone and said “Look! Here you are with your cake!” That’s not me! UGH. I don’ t mind that she doesn’t remember the party, but it breaks my heart that she thinks we didn’t have one for her, and I don’t know how to reconcile that. How does one’s brain choose to remember ‘I was neglected’ vs. ‘I had a fabulous party?’ But it’s not even the remembering that’s the problem; it’s the feelings associated with those memories. The memory of ‘no one had a party for me’ becomes associated with feelings of ‘I’m all alone. People forgot about me.’ That’s the part that’s hardest for me. And so I’ll take down the birthday decorations in her room, and not bring up the subject anymore, because her brain has chosen to remember the event inaccurately, in a way that is devastating for her. I. HATE. ALZHEIMER’S.
But, I guess there’s one more good thing about Alzheimer’s: you forget the idiotic responses from your daughter as she tries to navigate this horrible disease with you! LOL
Our value lies in what we are and what we have been,
not in our ability to recite the recent past.” – Homer
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