Beginnings

 
Looking back, it’s hard to say when Mom started showing definite signs that something was wrong. Once she was on her way to Ohio and when she got to the West Virginia Turnpike she realized she didn’t have her purse. Another time she forgot her garment bag (which had the bulk of her clothing in it) when she and Dad came to visit me at the beach. I guess all the things she did could have happened to anyone. That’s what makes it so hard to pinpoint. We all have these embarrassing little things that happen to us. Determining they are something other than being a space cadet comes later-after it’s obvious something is terribly, terribly wrong.

I suppose one of the first things that I saw was the constant repetition of the same question. Mom would ask what day it was over and over. She seemed fine other than that. She could carry on a conversation, drive a car, work her crossword puzzles, and basically live as she always had. I remember my eyes meeting my father’s as my mom would ask something for the fifth time in half an hour. His eyes were so full of concern. He was not healthy himself; suffering from emphysema was really getting the best of him. In the early days, I remember taking Mom out and helping her buy everyone’s Christmas presents. That was something else that was just too overwhelming in the early stages.

In the beginning, Mom would use the newspaper to know what day it was when she got up. She also made lots of lists so she would remember things. I’m sure she was aware that she was slipping. She must have been so frightened, but would have never admitted it. She wouldn’t even consider going to a doctor and telling him about the lapses she was having. Dad died in 1995 and my closest guess would be that Mom was showing signs of Alzheimer’s for at least two years prior.

While Dad was alive, he basically covered for her; helping her to know what to do everyday and taking care of the finances and paperwork. His death was a major blow to her. Suddenly she was all alone in a big ole world where things just didn’t make sense. Even though I had promised my dad I would look after Mom, ultimately, it was almost two years before I was able to move to Roanoke. The house next door became available (Mom wasn’t inviting us to live with her... plus she was going through terrible paranoia, delusions, rages, and what not... not something I was anxious to move my children and myself into the very heart of). The doctor had said that she would be ok with someone living next door, as long as they were home and available. She was fine and happy part of the time, although she was sure I was plotting against her, stealing from her, and out to get her at other times. She constantly hid things, then not remembering that she had done it, would think we took her stuff.

Locking herself out of the house was another common occurrence. She would come over and just start ranting and raving and I would get mad at her and try to avoid her for a day or two. As she continued on a very slow decline, I started having her over for dinner almost every night, so I could be sure she got at least one well balanced meal a day. She used to sweep my house all the time. Somehow no matter how much she swept, the floor always had more stuff to sweep up.

I feel sad looking bad, thinking of all the internal anguish Mom had and how little I tried to be understanding. But in all fairness to myself, I, also, had quite a bit on my plate during those months. I guess we all just plodded along, trying to make it through. Josh was going through some very turbulent teenage years. Chris was suffering from a lack of friends (Mom was his best friend for the first few months we lived in Roanoke-in fact, he was the only one consistently free from her ire), and I was trying to maintain strict family rules, homeschool, and look after Mom. I had left my friends and support behind when I moved to Roanoke. Financially I was going down the drain very quickly, getting by bouncing things around on credit cards. The Lord brought us through those days.

One thing I remember is a little card Mom brought over to me one day. She had written in it, “Thanks for being here for me. I hope this never happens to you. I love you. Mom.” I still have it somewhere.

Josh joined the USAF when he turned 18 and Chris and I moved in with Mom. We had more tumultuous times, but after getting Mom on some new medication, things have settled down quite nicely. I could not ask for a son who would be better with his grandma. Chris is so patient and loving. He also loves to tease Mom and she loves it, too. As I write this, we have been living with her for twenty months. Through all the ups and downs, I have discovered a deep love for my Mom that I never knew existed. I thank God that He chose me to travel down this path. He is teaching me so much and He is making me into a new person... little by little.. day by day. His abundant gifts to my boys and me are beyond all measure. I have no idea why He is so merciful to me, but it is very heartrending to think on. And I know that no matter what happens, Jesus will be right there with us.. all the way to the end of the road and beyond.

Philippians 1:6 Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ...