Blog 74: My Mom Is An Angel in Heaven

I don’t even know where to begin to describe the past three weeks.  Oh, how life changes in an instant.  I always said life is precious and you should never take it for granted.  I started this blog post a couple of times and just couldn't find the words to express my pain and heartache.  I will try again.  I am in mourning and grieving the loss of the most wonderful mom I could have ever had.  Blogging doesn't seem important now.  I just need to tell you all that my mom is gone.  She is gone.

I flew back to Chicago on June 27^th for one of my regular visits with Mom.  I was feeling pretty good about things for a change.  On June 30^th I was sitting on the deck of the group home with my mom.  We were enjoying the beautiful sunny day.  I looked up to the sky and saw this cloud, in the shape of a heart.  I felt like this was a sign that everything was going to work out.  Everything was going to be ok.  Plans were being made to move Mom back to her hometown and the meeting with my sisters was finally going to happen.  The next day, on July 1st, all of my sisters got together and we visited our mom before we had our important meeting.  Annie arrived late so she wasn’t with the rest of us when we visited Mom, but she went to see her after our meeting.  She said she walked in and Mom said, “Annie!”  Annie hadn’t been to see my mom in six months.  Not that she didn’t love her, she was just having a hard time accepting everything Renee put us through.

Mom seemed tickled to have us all there and she appeared somewhat sad when we said goodbye.   We girls went to a restaurant to have our family meeting to discuss what to do with our mom now that her money was about gone.  There we were, all five of us sitting down and talking.  Finally!  We got along with each other, though I have to admit there was a little tension and apprehension.  After all, it had been four years since we ALL sat down to talk.   We came up with a plan for the next phase of Mom’s care.  After considering the possibility of me coming back and hiring help and renting an apartment for us, it was agreed upon that Annie was going to bring Mom home to live with her in August.  She has her husband and daughters to help her.  I was so surprised that Renee agreed to it, but we were all facing the only other choice we had, which was Mom going to a nursing home with a Medicaid certified bed.  None of us wanted that.   I think Renee finally realized that being with family was better than that option.  Mom was finally going home.  I felt good about our meeting and reconnecting with my sisters. 

The next day during my visit with Mom, I told my mom that she was going to go back home.  She didn’t fully understand, but when I told her she was going to get to see her great grandson more, she did understand that, and she got choked up. Things were looking good.  Mom was doing as good as could be expected.  She was still recognizing her daughters, though she couldn’t say everyone’s names.  She still called me Lizzie.  Mom even let me give her a foot massage.  I was surprised to see how pretty her feet still looked.  I sang You Are My Sunshine to her everyday and held her hand and told her I love her many times during my visits that week.  Mom often told me she loved me back, though sometimes she would just say, “Good, I’m glad.”  Or, “I know you do.”  We had our usual golden moments, when Mom said something so meaningful, just out of the blue.  I am so glad I took notes and have a record of those meaningful things she said.  I took pictures and videos, and thank God I did a lot of that.  The last video I took of my mom was so cute.  She was smiling, laughing, and whistling.  Then at the end of the video I told her I love her and she said, “I love you, too”, with a smile on her face and that endearing look of a mother’s love.   I wish I could post that video right here, but I am still wanting to protect the privacy of my family. 

On July 5^th, I arrived at the group home and I could hear Mom whistling in her room.  Whistling and whispering were her new things.  We had an hour together.  It was to be the last hour that I could share beautiful moments with my mom.  The last time I would hear her voice and hear her say she loves me, and the last time I would see her beautiful blue eyes.    I fed her lunch during that hour.  She ate a jelly sandwich and I gave her some chocolate afterwards.  She chatted with my son on the phone from California.  Then, everything changed.  An aide arrived and took my mom to the bathroom for her bath.  I was in another room talking to my sister on the phone and I turned around to see the aide raise my mom from her chair.  

In an instant, life as we knew it changed.  My mom went into the bathroom a whole person, and she came out about 20 minutes later with a broken body.  She couldn’t walk and she was bent over and trembling.  I rushed to the bathroom and saw her like that.  Something happened in there.   The aide said she needed help and I called out to the caregiver to bring the wheelchair.  They put mom in the wheelchair and took her back to her room and then put her in her chair.  The aide said nothing to me or anyone else about what happened.  Mom said she hurt and the aide said she’s never seen my mom like that.  

After the aide left, it didn’t take long before I realized my Mom was really hurt.  She was clearly distressed.  Not knowing the severity of her injuries, I tried to calm her down and reassure her that everything will be ok.  Mom was making comments that she didn’t like the aide and that she couldn’t move her arms and that it hurts.   I felt up and down my mom’s arms and noticed she had a hard lump in her left arm.  I didn’t know it was broken.  I thought it was a pulled muscle, maybe.  I just had no idea.  The two caregivers there put cream and an icepack on it.   One of the caregivers was a nurse for 30 years.  Mom’s arm began bruising in her armpit area and down the inside part of her arm.  Finally, after repeated attempts to reach Renee, she showed up.  Several hours after the incident, Mom was transported to a hospice hospital, at Renee's direction, and four days later she was dead. 

Not only did my mom suffer a spiral fracture of her humerus on her left arm, but the next day they found that her left hip was broken too.  The doctor said she was too weak to survive these kinds of injuries and surgery was not an option.  At first Renee was talking alone to the nurses and doctors, but she finally let us all in to hear what they were saying.  She didn't need to be secretive anymore.  I couldn’t believe my mom was going to die.  Mom was put on a very low dose of subcutaneous Morphine, which the doctor said was kind of like a vicodin.  I asked why she won’t wake up and the doctor said, “because your mom is dying.”  Eventually they had to up her dose of morphine because Mom was in too much pain. 

I stood at her bedside and watched the life go out of her. Was this really it?  Was this how she was going to die?  It wasn’t going to be a peaceful death either, because she was hurting!  It wasn’t fair!!!  I watched her wince in pain and I saw the fear in her face.  She tried to say something to Renee and me.  We couldn’t understand her and she seemed a little frustrated as she repeated herself.  We could not make out what she was trying to say. Maybe she was trying to tell us what happened to her.  Mom couldn’t eat, not even ice cream.  God, that hurt to see my mom like that.  I could hear her tummy growling.  She was starving, but she was dying, too.  I could hardly eat.  In fact, it was days before I could eat anything without crying and feeling guilty.  I just couldn’t eat when my mom couldn’t eat.

My sisters all gathered together and some of us spent the night and slept on couches.  We took shifts holding our mom’s hand.  Mom squeezed our hands and we didn’t want let go unless there was someone else there to take over.  We didn’t want her to be alone or to be afraid. We wanted to be close to her and we all assured our mom that we love her and always will.  All of us took turns saying what we needed to say.  We told her that we are all together and we are all good, and for her to not worry about us.  We said we’ll take care of each other. The doctors had told us that she can hear us even if she can’t respond.  We made sure she knew we loved her.  

Towards the end it was just awful.  By then several of Mom’s grandchildren were there.   Annie arrived late, but she made it in time.  She got there after the nurses moved mom to her final resting position.  They placed her on her side so that her breathing would be easier.  Two chaplains had paid a visit on that last day.  Prayers were said, tears were constant, though we tried not to let Mom hear us cry, and Mom was slipping away fast.   We didn’t want her to die but it was too painful watching her die that we just wanted it to end.  But how could we survive without her?

The chaplain told us that she may want to go alone.  Mom knew we were all in the room with her, once Annie finally arrived.  Mom even tried to raise her head when she heard Annie's voice.  Mom was a very private person and she cared very deeply for her family.  I think when my mom knew we were all there, that’s when she was ready to let death claim her.  We all took turns saying goodbye and telling her how much she means to us and that it’s ok to go now so she doesn’t have to be in pain.  I told Mom to not be afraid.  Her body was trembling.  I said Jesus is waiting for you, Mom, and we will be together again one day.  I told her we will take care of each other until we see her again.  I told her we will never be apart, that we will keep a piece of her with us and she will take a piece of us to Heaven with her.  

It was just too painful to watch her as she was showing all of the signs that the end was near. The nurse said Mom was semi-comatose.  We reluctantly all left the room, in case Mom wanted to die alone.   The chaplain stayed with her for awhile.  I went down the hall to call my son.  A few minutes later my niece ran to get me and she said, “She’s gone.”  I ran down the hall, as I saw my nephew running to get his mom, and others running into my mom’s room.  We were all there within seconds. She was just laying there, lifeless, with Annie holding her hand.  Annie had slipped back in the room and she was there when Mom took her last breath.  There was no more struggle to breathe.  She was free from the pain, but our pain was unbearable.  I dropped to my knees and held on to her and cried MOMMY!!!!  I was a little girl again, who needed her mommy.  Everything was so surreal.  The crying, everyone crying that awful cry when someone you love dies.  The chaplain was crying, too. 

Mom passed away on July 9th at 10:45 P.M.  My family moved about, going in and out of the room.  Those of us who could, and some couldn’t do it, but those of us who could, sat with her and talked to her some more.  Annie didn’t want to leave her.  She kept rubbing mom’s arm.  I held my mom’s lifeless hands, still being careful not to hurt her broken arm, and I said goodbye to my mom.  I walked out of the room and turned around to have one last look at her, with tears streaming down my face.  I wondered how I could ever survive life without my mom.  My hero was gone.  

Annie told me when she walked into the room our mom was looking straight ahead.  She was already on her last breath.  Annie told her to go to Grandma and Grandpa.  She said they are waiting to take her to Heaven with them.  She said that is when Mom took one more breath and then she stopped.  My daughter said that she had a vision of my grandparents standing behind Jesus, with open arms, reaching out for my mom.  I believe that happened. 

Sadly, an autopsy had to be done on my mom.  I hate that she had to have that done.  We have the preliminary report that said she didn't have a heart attack or stroke.  We are still waiting for the final results but we know what it's going to read.  Mom died as a result of her injuries. We are just waiting.  One thing I am sure of, my mom didn't fall.  She didn't have any bruises on her hip or the outside of her arm. The coroner's report is what everyone is waiting for, though I don't know if I will be able to look at it.    

My mom’s funeral was on July 12^th.  It was a beautiful service with more people there than I ever expected to see. It was so nice to hear the wonderful comments about my mom and see all the people who cared about her and our family.  I prepared a letter to my mom that I read during the service.  It was so hard for me to read it, through the tears, but I did it for my mom.  At the burial site, my sister's son, the oldest of the grandchildren, gathered all of us girls together.  He said that it took our mom a lifetime to build up this family and make it the loving family that she was proud of, and in a period of three years, we dismantled everything she worked so hard on building.  He asked us what he thought our mom would think about that, and he asked us if we are going to let this be it or are we going to work on making our mom proud of the legacy she left behind.  It’s something I always wanted, and I think we all did.  We just couldn’t get it together.  We hugged in a huddle and promised we will make our mom proud as she looks down on us from Heaven.  It will be a struggle at times since there was a lot of hurt and anger, and it will take time to heal, but I am hoping we can pull through this and be there for each other. 

I had to leave and go back to my home in Arizona, and I felt so terribly sad to leave my sisters behind.  That oldest sister in me, nurturing, wanting to comfort, wanting to protect my sisters, is back.  (She never really left.)  I feel for them because I am also feeling that same, awful pain they are feeling.  We describe it as feeling empty. Lynda said she feels like an orphan now that both of our parents are gone. Before I left, I went to a Monument place and picked out a headstone for my mom.  I selected a precious moments angel to go on the headstone.  The angel is releasing five hearts from her hand, representing my mom’s five daughters. 

I know my mom is in Heaven with Jesus and she is whole again.  She is no longer in pain, no longer living with Alzheimer’s, and she is an angel who is watching over her family.   She is not fully gone from our lives because she is living through us, it's just hard to not be able to see her again for the rest of my life.  After the funeral my family went to dinner and we talked and shared stories.  We even laughed.  Yeah, we even laughed, though we cried, too.  All of us girls stood outside in the parking lot after we finished our meal (which by the way, was the first time I could eat without crying), and we talked for another hour.  Just like old times, we had so much to say.  We have lots of catching up to do. We went for ice cream afterwards, and as my four year old granddaughter was licking her ice cream cone she walked over to a young couple sitting there and she said, “My big nana is in Heaven and she is an angel now.”  She is proud of her big nana, and to her, she is happy she's an angel.  She, and my wonderful family and friends are helping me get through this.  I didn't think I could go on, but somehow, some way, I am finding the strength to live.   

By the way, I will continue this blog.  Our journey is not over, so please check back from time to time.   

Blog 61: My Visit With Mom at the Group Home

I flew into town and spent the afternoon with my mom on Valentine's Day.  I couldn't think of a better way to spend the day than with my mom, who was the most loving, kind and nurturing person I ever knew.  She loved unconditionally, and always put her daughters first.  She taught me how to love, and because of that, I love her more than words can describe.   That's the way she loved her daughters, too.

This was the first time I had seen my mom since November.  I was very anxious and apprehensive because based on our previous phone conversations, I sensed she had declined considerably.  I couldn't tell if it was just because she didn't have phone skills anymore, or if it was because she actually had become worse.  I just needed to see her to know if what I had envisioned her being like, was really true.  It was.  In fact, she was even worse than what I had expected.

Mom was sleeping in a chair in her room when I arrived, and she had her arms wrapped around a baby doll.  I had suspected she was doing that now based on a phone call I had made to her awhile back.  I know from my volunteer work at a nursing home that a lot of the female residents hold baby dolls in their arms.  When she awoke she looked up at me with sad eyes.  I said, "Hi, Mom!"  She didn't have that happy expression she usually has when she sees me.  I asked her if she knew who I was and she said she didn't know.  I sensed she recognized me and she was trying to find my name somewhere in her memory.  She just couldn't say my name.  I told her I am her oldest daughter and she repeated, 'the oldest'.  I didn't want to tell her my name and I waited to see if she would remember.  After a few minutes she said it.   I could see a sense of relief in her, just as much as I was feeling a sense of relief that she remembered.  The caregiver told me that mom says my name a lot.

I brought mom a small box of Valentine chocolates and a Singing Bear that sings the Lollipop song while she moves her arms in a circle, holding lollipops.  My mom always liked singing toys and cards, but she just looked at it with no expression on her face.  I coaxed mom to eat two pieces of chocolate but she didn’t seem interested.  The caregiver said she eats, but very little.  

I knelt by my mom and talked to her and tried to get an assessment of her condition.  Her Alzheimer’s is winning this battle.  Not like I expected anything differently, it's just so hard to see my mom like that.  She is weaker, her face is drawn, and her movements are slow.  I held her hands and I sensed it made her feel safe.  Her hands were soft and gentle, like they alway were, only weak.  She let me rub her back and run my fingers through her hair and just touch her.  I always want to touch her when I'm with her.  At certain times during my visit, I could have just broken down in tears, but instead I held it together for my mom's sake.

I don’t know how much she understands of what I say.  Her hearing is not very good, and she always had such good hearing in the past.  It seems that as soon as I say something it only takes a fraction of a second for her to forget it.  She will start to answer my question but then forget mid-sentence what she was going to say.  Sometimes I wonder if she knows more than she can express and it frustrates her that she can't put her thoughts into words.  I don't know.

Most of her sentences were fragmented and didn’t make any sense, however I did take a few notes of some of the more memorable things she said.  Mom said, “You know what, I’m very, very, very close...”  Then she didn’t finish what she was trying to say.  I asked her, but she couldn’t tell me.  She also said, "Are they going to bury...that coat?"  And, "I’m going to make it til I wouldn’t die."  

Then out of the blue she said, “When I get old and I’m thinking, Lizzie where are you?”  That got to me.  I wondered what she meant.  I asked my daughter about it afterwards and she said she thought mom was putting two different thoughts together, and the fact that I come to see her often, she remembers that.   That statement and another one she said, really tugged at my heart.  At one point she started to drift off to sleep and she heard me move, which startled her.  She opened her eyes and said, "I just like to be with the girls."  It was like she was dreaming and she spoke of what her dream was, or what she was thinking sub-consciously.  That made me feel sad because all along my mom has always said she wants us all to be together.  And sadly, we are not.  

I took some pictures of mom and me and a video of her.  The pictures didn't turn out so good because mom hasn't a clue how to sit in front of the camera.  She is oblivious to what I am doing.  When I viewed the pictures on my phone she said, "That's you!!"  Then I pointed to her picture and said that's her.  She looked at her picture and said, "I'm so ugly."  I said, "NO, you are not ugly mom, you are beautiful!"  I told her over and over again that she is beautiful, because she is.   

The place mom is living in is a nice house, with six residents and two full-time caregivers.  The women were very friendly and I was pleased with what I saw.  I have to admit I felt a tinge of jealousy that they are the ones who get to spend so much time with my mom.  I know it is a difficult task, but it is one that I wanted to do.  A man introduced himself to me and told me his mom and dad just moved into the house and he actually lives in Arizona, not far from me.  He was very nice and we talked for awhile about our parents.  He comes back to visit as often as I do.  What a small world. 

Mom remembered her home address and the city she used to live in.  I was surprised at that.  She couldn't spell any words though, which she used to be able to do better than the average person less than a year ago.  One other sad fact is that she will never dance again.  That was something she so enjoyed doing.  Now she can't even walk.  I asked the caregivers to get her up so I can see how she walks.  Mom needed them to hold her up or she would have fallen over.  One of the ladies said, "Don't be scared."  And my mom, with all her might, said, "I'm NOT scared!"  She sure didn't have the fight in her that she used to, though she tried to muster up the strength to shout it out.  It was barely audible and her breathing was labored by just taking a few steps down the hallway into the living room.  I noticed she has lost weight.  

When they sat her on the sofa and left the room, Mom looked out the window and started crying.  I reached my arms around her and asked her why she was crying.  She said, "I don't know, I don't know."  It broke my heart.  She cried three different times during my visit.  Just out of nowhere the tears came.  Gosh, I hate this disease so much!  

They put Mom in a wheelchair to take her back to her room after a little while.  That's something Mom would have fought, kicking and screaming, before.  There was no way she'd ever sit in a wheel chair, but she relented and almost welcomed the safety of the chair.  There was no help on her part in getting settled in the rocker when we got back to her room.  It's like she can't even move her body anymore.  I put the baby doll back in her arms and wrapped the blanket around her as I propped her legs up on a pillow.  She snuggled the baby and gently kissed it on the head.  The doll is a girl but she calls it a boy, and he has no name.  

Mom said with clarity, “I’m glad that you’re here.”  I said I’m glad I’m here, too.  I was holding her hand and I told her I’m sorry she's sick, and she said, “Oh, I’m not sick!"  I asked her if she was happy and she said yes.  I asked if she felt good and she said yes.  But to me, she seemed anything but happy or well.  I could see the frustration in that she couldn't figure out what was going on with her.  

I told mom I love her many times and I told her I've missed her so much.  She did respond, mostly, and tell me she loves me, too.  She sounded so much like my mom at those times. It’s like those words are embedded in her mind, never to be forgotten.  

Mom mentioned her sister's name and her brother-in-law.  In fact, she saw another couple sitting at the table and she said that was them.  I told the caregiver that Mom's sister just celebrated her 80th birthday.  She would like to come see my mom but she can't make the three hour drive up there.  Mom mumbled something about her mom and I got the poster board off the wall with the pictures of all of her daughters and grandkids and the family home and her parents.  Mom wasn't able to say anyone's name.  She kept saying my name for my sisters.  She didn't seem to recognize her parents either, or the picture of her as a little girl.  I was thinking after I left that maybe she couldn't see the pictures very well.  She used to wear glasses sometimes.  She hasn't worn them for awhile now.  I will find out why tomorrow.  

There are some things I need to fill you in about what's going on with my sisters.  I have just been avoiding doing that because I had to step back and let things go for awhile and stop stressing about it.  It was just getting to be too much for me and in order to have some peace and happiness in my life, I had to remove myself from the pain.  I promise to give an update soon. 

Tomorrow I will go back to see my mom, and for the next several days I will be spending a lot of time with her.   I can't wait to see her again, and like always, I hope for a better day for her the next time.  This just isn't fair.  But I suppose, life isn't fair. 

Blog 55: My First Alzheimer's Support Group Meeting

My mom was moved from the nursing rehab facility to a group home last week.  I like this idea of her being in a group home better than a nursing home.  She is still three hours away from most of the family, and I don’t like that, but I can’t do anything about it.  I just hope Mom adjusts and starts eating again.   

Renee set a rule that we are not allowed to call her or even know the location at this time.  She sent an email and said that she will send a weekly email to tell us how Mom is doing.  That’s it!  It just irritates me when she put in the email that she and her kids and her husband have been going there often to see her.   I’ve about had enough of her control issues that I could scream!  Mom has FIVE DAUGHTERS WHO LOVE HER and want to be a part of her care and her life and everything that Renee allows herself to be a part of. 

Mom still has not been eating and I got a text yesterday morning that Renee was going to take her to the ER if she didn’t eat her breakfast.  She texted later and said that she ate a little so she didn’t take her in.  We will see how it goes.  But Mom has been moved four times in the past month and that is probably a big reason why she is not eating.  I’m sure her UTI has not gone away yet and that may be another reason.  I hope it isn’t something worse…that Mom is giving up…not willingly, but I know that people stop eating in the final stages of the disease.  It makes me so sad.  Christmas is coming.  L

I went to my first Alzheimer’s support group meeting yesterday morning, and I almost didn’t go because I was so upset about my mom not eating and having to go to the hospital again.  I have been wanting to go to this support group for the past four months, but something always came up and got in the way of me attending.  It was my chance to finally go.  I decided at the last minute that I needed to do this, so I threw on some clothes, washed the tears off of my face (knowing I’d be crying again soon) and drove to the meeting. 

I was the only new member there out of about 15 people.  When the group leader asked me to share my story, I did, and, oh boy, I started crying.  I tried not to but I couldn’t help it.  I cried, and cried, and I had to cover my face in my hands and take a moment to recoup.  When I looked up I saw compassion and even tears in other people's eyes.  I knew then that I was not alone, that they really did understand because they are living this nightmare in their own personal lives. 

I released all of the emotion I had inside as I shared with them as much as I could.  Once I started talking, I could not stop.  I eventually stopped crying and I was able to fill them in from the beginning to the present time.  I felt that they were on this journey with me and I didn’t need to over explain anything.  It felt so good to let it all out and get some advice from others who have been down the road I have.  I never felt so good about sharing my story as I did at that moment.  I felt such a release and a wonderful response of love and support and understanding.  One woman came up to me afterwards and hugged me. 

I finally had affirmation that I should not feel guilty about moving away, and that my sister Renee has handled her powers of attorney in a way that it was not meant to be, which has caused the dissention in our family, and she is never going to change.  I need to keep my distance from her and be in control of me, and be there for my mom in the way I have been, and be there for my kids and grandkids, who need me.   I was reassured, as I have been told by other people I am close to, that I have done so much for my mom and I should be proud of how I’ve tried to fight for a better life for her, and for trying so hard to bring my sisters back together again. 

Two group members told me I need to play the game that two of my sisters have learned to play in order to stay in the loop and get information from Renee about my mom.   I need to keep our conversations in brief texts, no matter what Renee does.  I told them that Renee is cruel with her words and her lengthy emails are very hurtful to me.  As hard as it is to ignore them, that is what I’ve been doing.  Sometimes I write a response but then I don’t send it.  It just helps to write it, I guess. 

One lady told me she can see that I am a very well-balanced person, who has empathy and compassion and that my nurturing nature and love for my mom and my sisters shows in every word I speak.   I even defended Renee in trying to explain why she does what she does.  It was unanimous amongst the group members that I should take the powers of attorney away from Renee.  I just don’t want to keep the fight going.  I want peace, forgiveness, and love with all of my sisters. 

I can’t wait to go to another meeting.  One of the women there has been going to this support group for seven years.  That says a lot about this group.  I felt so warm and welcome as soon as I entered the doors of this church.   I am so glad I went. 

My volunteer work at the nursing home has been a wonderful thing for me.  I live so far away from my mom and I can’t see her as often as I would like, so spending time with other elderly residents has helped me cope with the longing I have for my mom. 

One of my new friends there is a 64 year old woman, still so young for a nursing home, who is wheelchair bound, and has some Parkinsons and arthritis.  I'm sure she has many other health issues.  She speaks very softly and barely moves, other than the trembling of her hands.  When I touched her hand, the shaking stopped.   I am learning about her life and she seems to enjoy sharing her stories with me, even though she doesn’t make eye contact.  She asked me if she knew me and I said no, but I want to be her friend.  She smiled and looked up at me at that moment, and I knew I was where I needed to be.  A staff member told me she has not had a visit from a family member since she arrived there four months ago.  I don’t know the full story, so I am not going to judge.  I am just thankful that she came here from another nursing home, and maybe we crossed paths with each other for a reason.  I think she is going to help me as much as I can hopefully help her.

Blog 54: Fix You

Dear Mom, 

I had to leave you.  I had to go back home.  This time it was harder than ever to say goodbye.  I know that I won’t be able to talk to you on the phone, and I have no idea how long it will be before I am able to hear your beautiful voice again.  The nursing home can't take calls for you and even if they did, you really don’t know what to do with the phone anymore.  I will have to rely on family members to call me when they are visiting you, and most of them don’t live that close to you, so I will just have to wait for that phone call, and hope it comes. 

That phone call won’t come from Renee, Mom.  I guess we will never see eye to eye, and I know if you knew what she was doing to our family you would certainly be very disappointed in her.  When I texted her to ask how you are doing, she ignored me.  Then the next day I asked again.  She texted back and said she has everything under control and to stop asking.  She said 'we are done'. You are my mom and I want to know how you are doing.  She is my link to you since she lives near you and sees you the most.   I suppose it's going to be days or weeks before I will hear anything.  I can't call you when I want.  I just have to be quiet and let Renee contact me when or if she wants to.  When she hurts me like that,  it affects my whole day.  I can't stop crying...I can’t do anything!  I am lost.  I know, Mom, that you know I am trying, and I am the only one who is.   It's just so hard to talk to her.  You know how she is, Mom.  You especially know, because she always gave you a hard time.  

Mom, when I was with you, I felt bad that you were so scared when the nurse and I tried to change you.  You looked at me with such fear as you dug your fingers into my arms, squeezing me til my arms hurt, begging and pleading with me to help you.  You don’t understand that what I was doing was helping you.   Your granddaughter and her boyfriend were waiting outside of your room while you shouted at me to help you.  That must have been hard for them to hear, and my heart ached for you because you wouldn’t want them to see you like this, you wouldn’t want to live like this.

You told me you don’t want to be mean to me.  You aren’t being mean to me, Mom.  You are scared and you are fighting because you don’t want to live like this.  You want to be left alone and do things on your own, even though we know you would never survive if that happened.  You always were a fighter and I’m glad to see you fighting still, as hard as it is to see it.  When you stop fighting is when I’ll really worry. 

When I was visiting you Mom, you were suffering with a urinary tract infection.  The nurses told me that they need a urine specimen to treat it.  They were not diligent in taking care of this the whole two weeks I was there.  Renee was too busy with work to follow through.  I finally, nicely but firmly, spoke to the third nurse about it before I left, and told her that I know UTI’s can cause delusions and a lot more confusion for dementia sufferers, and they need to do something to get a urine sample and start the antibiotics.  She said they were going to put a catheter in while you were sleeping.  If they did, I’m sure you were very scared.  I’m sorry, Mom.  If they finally treated your infection, maybe then you won’t be ‘seeing’ mice crawling around in your room, cows stepping on everyone’s feet, your great grandson Kevin in a coffin, kids on railroad tracks, and thinking the waste-basket is the toilet.   I remember when Dad had a UTI and he was seeing things crawling on his walls.  When the infection was treated, he was a new man.  I’m sorry, Mom.   It’s not your fault, I wish I could fix you.

I hope you are eating your food, Mom.  You hardly ate when I was there, other than that time I sat with you for an hour and used every trick I knew to get you to open your mouth and take a bite.  I told you Kevin said he wants you to eat, and that look of love on your face for Kevin, got you to open up and let me put a small spoonful in your mouth.  You managed to eat one-quarter of your lunch.  Other times you wouldn’t eat, no matter what.  Maybe the UTI was causing you to lose your appetite, too.  I hope you are eating more now, because it is a scary sign when you stop eating.

Are you ready to go, Mom?  Do you see what we can’t see and know more than what we think you do?  Has the veil been lifted?  You have been talking so much about your mom and dad and other people who have passed on.  Are you seeing them now?  Are they bringing you comfort?  Are they calling you to come be with them in Heaven?  Rose, your granddaughter thinks so.  She thinks you are hanging on now because God knows we aren’t ready to let you go.  You were so loving to me when I was there visiting you.  More loving than you've ever been since you became sick with Alzheimer's.  You told me over and over again how much you love me.  Were you preparing me, Mom?  God will know when the time is right and He will take you home then.  He will fix you!

There’s a song called ‘Fix You’ that makes me think of you, Mom, and our family, and the struggles we have gone through.  I am going to have someone help me make a video about our family, and I am going to use this song.  Until then, I found this video on YouTube that I liked.  This is for you, Mom.

I love you and miss you so much,

Lizzie  XOXO

Blog 53: I'm Not Going To Forget You

That’s what my mom said to me the other day, right after she told me she loves me very much.  She said, “I’m not going to forget you.”  In her very confused state, with a lot of what she says not making much sense, hearing her say something so meaningful, showed me that God is giving me something back.  He is giving me pieces of my mom back, at a time when I thought she was no longer capable of expressing her love, and at a time where I feel we are losing her.  I believe He spoke to me through my mom and He helped her say those words, because she often can’t express herself the way she wants to.

My mom has shown her love to me so many times over the past two weeks that I’ve been here visiting her.  I was so wrong to state in a recent post that Alzheimer’s-Dementia has stolen her ability to show love.  With God’s help (and I do believe it is God, because He knows how much I need this) she put her arms around me and hugged me every day.  She never really was a hugger…always complained that we had hairspray in our hair, so she would pat us quickly and then be done.  She hugged me so tight the other day that we almost fell over on her bed.  Both of us laughed.   A new thing she does now is she leans her forehead into mine and looks into my eyes.   As our blue eyes meet, I could see the pain and despair in those beautiful blue eyes, but I also saw love and happiness that I was there with her, at that moment.    

Mom holds my hand and lets me pray with her.  She has said things like, you are so good…you help me all the time…I’m glad you came here…don’t ever leave me…Lizzie, I love you so much…and the most touching and meaningful words…I’M NOT GOING TO FORGET YOU.  I get choked up just thinking about it, and I will never, ever forget that she said those wonderful words to me.  Of course I told her I will never forget her, too.  

Mom cried when I called her great grandson, Kevin, to talk to him.  She was so happy to hear his voice.  Mom also showed her love to other family members when I called for her to talk or do face time with them.  She does still show that she loves us!

Here is my mom talking to her great granddaughter.

I bought Mom a prayer bear, and when you squeeze her tummy a child’s voice says...

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, may angels watch me through the night, and keep me in their blessed sight.  Amen  

Mom loved it and wanted to play it over and over again, and then she fell asleep holding the little bear.  I was choked up and I couldn't hold back the tears as we left her room and drove home.