“You’re Here!”

Several of my friends are (or have been) caregivers for a loved one with Alzheimer’s. It is interesting to note that many of them have shared that their loved one often “behaves better” for their spouse or an outside caregiver. That is certainly the case for my care-giving relationship with my mother. She can be fussy as all get-out all afternoon with me, requiring the tenderest of care, but the minute her son-in-law walks in the door, all is well. Her world is secure. She really appreciates all that he does for her…and so do I.

“You’re here!” exclaimed Momma with a note of delightful surprise in her voice as she entered the living room and saw her son-in-law sitting on the sofa with me.

Ever since I arrived a few days earlier, Momma had been anticipating her son-in-law’s visit, inquiring many times as to when he would be arriving. She even set a place at the dinner table for him on Monday evening, even though he would not be here until lunch the following day.

Momma loves her son-in-law and sometimes reminisces back to a day, many years ago, when she was confined to a hospital bed, eyes still bandaged following surgery to correct tubular glaucoma. She tells me how it meant the world to her that he would come and visit and then sit and hold her hand in his at a time when her world was dark and uncertain. His presence let her know that everything was going to be all right.

It blesses my heart to see my dear husband still tenderly caring for Momma today. Momma’s world is a bit scary and uncertain for her now as she wrestles with the knowledge that her mind isn’t working like it once did.

Momma has been asking for a new doorbell for several weeks now. Wayne shopped for, purchased, and now set about getting it installed for her. The look of sheer delight on her face when she heard its distinctive chimes and declared it “Perfect!” was absolutely…well, perfect.

Following the doorbell installation, I was busy making supper when Momma came in the kitchen to let me know Wayne was looking for her hearing aids. She had given him her blessing to rummage through her drawers, closets, and personal belongings to look for the missing hearing aids we had unsuccessfully searched for earlier. While I continued with dinner preparations, Mom joined him in the search, occasionally asking, “What are we looking for?” Wayne would smile, even laugh a little, patiently telling and re-telling her that we were looking for her hearing aids. It seemed like a failed search and several thousand dollars down the drain until, in a moment of clarity, Momma opened a drawer and pulled out the missing device! Joy!

Walking past the living room a few minutes later, I stopped to take in a beautiful sight. My husband was kneeling in front of Momma, gently putting a hearing aid in one of her ears. He then spoke to her in a normal voice, rather than the usual requisite shouting. The look of pleasure on her face when she realized how well she could hear was priceless.