Images: Melanie Kyer
The Long Goodbye
My mother has Alzheimer’s disease. Actually, we aren’t completely sure that it is Alzheimer’s, although her doctor has said that’s the most likely culprit for her memory loss, but I just hate the word dementia. I don’t want to think of my mother as “demented”– it is so much easier to just blame “a disease.”
What it comes down to, however, is that I lost part of my mother a long time ago. She is still in there, she still says she loves me, and she still has that beautiful smile, but the part I can ask for advice, share accomplishments with and reminisce with about childhood memories is gone. It’s not fair, and it sometimes makes me angry. I’m angry at our healthcare system, and at a God who would make the last years of life for such a wonderful woman so needlessly hollow.
As is my way, however, I do try to find the bright sides: we have her living closer to us so I spend a lot more time with her. When she was in a less restrictive facility, I would spend time almost every week playing the piano for residents and enjoy seeing how proud she was of me. At her facility now, I play the ukulele and sing hymns and songs for her when I visit. She is less and less aware, but I know part of her hears me.
Music does that.
I’m also taking the time to go through old photos and scan them for the family. I show her the highlights. Some she recognizes, like the time I showed her a photo of my dad and she smiled and said “I like that guy.” They remind me of all the wonderful things she did – not only raising great children, but traveling around the world, making dozens of pies for suppers at her church, knitting us mittens every year, and organizing choral concerts at the town museum.
She may not remember, but I can remember for both of us.
It can be hard to find God in this long goodbye, but the word “goodbye” itself actually means “God be with you.” Every time I pray with my mom, I ask God to be with us both. And I know that prayer is answered.
Melanie Kyer