This Sweet Treat

I sometimes leave a little treat on the kitchen countertop near mom’s chair where she can enjoy ‘discovering’ the snack . Being able to help herself to something yummy gives her a much-needed sense of independence. Very important when, one by one, here a little, there a little, her ability to exercise independent decision-making is being stripped away.

Momma has long since lost the ability to cook; a bit sad since she was such a great cook.  Using an oven or cooking something on the stove-top would be dangerous. Truth is, she can no longer even use a microwave to fix herself a cup of tea or rewarm something she might find in the fridge. Only a few years ago, this amazing woman would cook big meals for her family and friends. Today, Alzheimer’s has left her completely dependent upon us to make sure she has the food she needs for daily sustenance.

I have discovered one secret to being a good caregiver. Wherever possible restore the dignity of making a choice. In this time of life when everyone is making important decisions on your behalf, being able to make even a small decision on your own is vitally important.

My Facebook friends may remember this story. One day, not long ago, I left a cookie for my mom on a little white plate. Mom spied the treat on the countertop and gingerly carried it to her spot at the kitchen table. Everything in me wanted to help her carry it to the table. I let her handle this on her own, but stood nearby and at the ready should she need my help. Mom then plopped herself into her chair at the table. Then, in a sweet, melt-my-heart moment, I watched as she held the cookie between the fingertips of her prayerfully clasped hands, closed her eyes and quietly prayed,

“Thank you Lord for this cookie, this sweet treat. And thank you for this nice place to be. In Jesus name, Amen.”

Alzheimer’s and Money Worries

One of the things that keeps Momma up at night during her Sundowning episodes is wondering whether she has enough money. She’ll go through her purse countless times in search of cash, a checkbook, a credit card…something. Anything that tells her she is okay financially. Continue reading “Alzheimer’s and Money Worries”

Sweet and Sad Moments

img_5147Just as I hopped in my car after my “me time” at the gym this morning, I heard my phone chime. It was a text from my hubby telling me that my Momma missed me and was hoping I’d come home soon.

Hubby filled me in on the goings-on during the two hours while I was away. I guess Momma kept wandering around looking here and there, obviously looking for someone. When Wayne offered to help her, she told him that she was just looking for her family. She was a little worried I wouldn’t come home.

Sweet and sad at the same time. Sweet that she was looking for me and still knows I am family. Sad that my absence for even a short time made her feel abandoned for even a moment.

Upon arriving home, I found her seated on the edge of her bed watching the door, just waiting for me. The second I walked in the door, “Oh, there you are, Cindie. I was hoping you’d come back.”

img_5148
Note the arrows where she’s trying to figure out which word to read next.

As Momma’s understanding of my relationship to her as a daughter fades, these very sweet, melt my heart moments, are happening more often now. 

After supper Momma was quietly coloring a picture in her coloring book when she looked up at me and said with a smile, “This picture I’m coloring is for you and Dad.” She went on to read and tell me that it says, “When I am Afraid, I Will…” She stopped abruptly, unable to finish deciphering what the artistic rendering of Psalm 56:3 said. After a few moments of trying her best to figure it out, she said, “Oh, well, you’ll figure out what it says.” I told Momma it was very sweet of her to color that for me, to which she responded, “Well, I have to do something for you and Dad, for all you’ve done for me, and I don’t know what size you wear.”