Visiting Mom

It makes me sad that there is very little to talk about when I stop in to visit Mom. I find myself longing for ideas of what we could do together when I visit. Nothing comes to mind. She used to love watching "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" every day. On my last visit, I turned on her TV and discovered that show was on so we watched it until I left. She didn't seem to remember having seen it. "Do you want me to leave the TV on?" I asked as I gave her a good-bye hug. "No. Shut it off. It's just a bunch of noise to me," she said.

We recently removed her computer from her room. She has forgotten how to turn it on and how to play Mahjong and Bookworm. She crochets creations of her own design and glues them to watercolor paper, confusing it with the quilling technique she has done over the years--twisting strips of paper into flower petals and such and gluing them onto card stock.

I am so proud of her though as she perseveres through each day and keeps herself busy. On nearly every visit, she sends me home with pencil drawings that she is certain her great grandchildren will enjoy coloring. As I contemplate them in solitude, I recognize the labor of love and chastise myself for dismissing them and assuming no kid would want them. I resolve to make sure they get distributed and decide I will request more on their behalf. It even occurs to me I could sit and draw with her!

I feel her slipping away. I drive away from a half hour visit wondering what the future holds. What will it be like when she no longer knows who I am? How will I handle that? She is healthy as a horse, she will live a long time. Alzheimer's will be her demise. The thought makes me tremble as I try to shake it out of my head.








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Location:Gile Rd,Nottingham,United States