Sometimes I wrestle with whether or not I should write about something related to caring for a loved one with dementia. Some things just feel too private, too personal. In writing about an especially sensitive topic, I wonder if I will dishonor my mother in some way. I’ve wrestled earnestly with today’s topic for these reasons and more. However, as I speak with others who are caring for a loved one suffering from memory loss, many of them are dealing with the same thing. So, for the sake of those who need to know they’re not alone, here’s the topic:
As Mom’s battle with Alzheimer’s dementia intensifies, so does the bad language and harshness of the tongue. Those who help provide her care each day assure me she is still incredibly sweet – they love, love, LOVE her to pieces. They tell me that when her tongue gets sharp, she almost immediately apologizes and layers on the salve of kindness.
Before Alzheimer’s, Momma would never swear at someone. In a moment of frustration, she may think a curse word in response to a frustrating situation, but she would never say it out loud. She would quickly reign in her frustration and replace it with graciousness.
With Alzheimer’s, the filter on the tongue is missing. My sweet mother’s ability to reign in her emotions and frustrations is broken. With arms flailing, out come the curse words when her caregiver tries (sometimes in vain) to help her shower or get dressed. She’ll even blurt out curse words at me, the one who provides daily love and care for her.
It hurts my heart to hear her swear and say ugly, mean-spirited things.
Before Alzheimer’s Momma’s tongue held kind words, not critical and harsh ones. Her tongue reflected her actions and her love for her Savior; she was gracious and benevolent with both. She’d never blurt out what she thinks. She’d just smile and keep her thoughts to herself.
I know it’s the result of this disease. But, I also see very clearly that the curse of the sinful nature we are all born with is uncovered and revealed by this relentless and wicked disease. I know in my heart how much my mother loves Jesus. And I know how immersed she was in the Scriptures and what a prayer warrior she was before this disease stripped her mind of the ability to recall the things she has learned.
I always hoped that she would defy the odds of this disease and never forget the Scriptures she has learned. But now, it seems, she cannot understand what she is reading and tells me that the Bible I keep on her nightstand isn’t hers, even though it is filled with her own handwritten notes, prayers and thoughts.
I always hoped that music and the great hymns of the faith would be a help and stronghold for her in her later years. But she is usually quite ambivalent to it – although her poor hearing might play a role in that.
I always hoped she wouldn’t forget that she is a child of the King. On this last unfulfilled hope – she has forgotten, but God has not. She is His child and He knows it. He remembers her and will never forget – never forsake.
Someday, when all is made new, music will be restored and she will sing a new song in heaven. Best of all, she will meet the One she read about in Scriptures and has trusted by faith – Jesus – the living Word.