by LuAnn Anglo
Mom was only seventy-one, in great health, fun-loving, vivacious, and outgoing when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Strange as this may sound, that diagnosis was a relief! She and we knew something was wrong, so we were all relieved to learn that there was a medical reason for her forgetfulness.
Mom had enough wits about her to worry that others might think she was just dumb or forgetful. In fact, she proudly added the “news” of her diagnosis to her annual Christmas letter.
I learned to view Mom’s Alzheimer’s as though it was a two-sided ladder, with each rung representing a year. When life was normal, Mom advanced in age up one side of the ladder, but with Alzheimer’s she began to move down the other. This simple imagery allowed me talk about her situation in ways that really helped me communicate what was happening.
When Mom “turned six” on the back side of the ladder, my granddaughter, Jaiden, was also six. Mom loved Jaiden, but suddenly this innocent six-year-old irritated Mom. She would scold, pick on, and blame Jaiden whenever something was missing or broken. This behavior was surprising and frustrating to me until I caught a TV program about young girls fighting. That’s when I realized that my mom was just a little girl too.
At “five years” Mom discovered boys and developed a crush on Ed, who happened also to live in the memory support unit. She talked about him constantly. She would primp and fuss to make sure that he noticed her. Ed was married and his wife visited him daily, but that didn’t matter. Mom was convinced it was just his mother! Mom always did have an eye for the goodlooking men!
When Mom “turned three” I moved her into my home. It seemed such a waste to be paying all that money for her to live elsewhere when she still needed me to be with her each day. By now Mom couldn’t entertain herself. Like most three-year-olds, she demanded my full attention—following me from room to room, staring impatiently at me when I was on the phone, and pouting when I didn’t have time to play with her.
Luckily, I discovered an activity that kept Mom’s attention. Just like every three-year-old, Mom liked to sort! And when I moved her into my home, I brought her rather large collection of costume jewelry along. It turned out to be the perfect activity! She would sit and sort for hours. Item after item got a close inspection before she would look for the exact match. It was perfect for Mom and perfect for me!
Seeing Mom happy made me happy, but it also made me sad. It was at that point that I knew I had to let go of the Mom I once knew. She was gone. I leaned heavily upon my faith and prayers. It felt as if I was mourning my mother’s death while caring for the child she had become.
At “two” things got harder. I should have known— they don’t call them the terrible twos for nothing! Mom’s vocabulary shrank. Her temper tantrums worsened. She became jealous of my husband. She would meet me at the door pointing and glaring at him. She would mutter and mumble about “him” without end. I explained to her that Jeff was my husband, that I loved him, and that she needed to be nice to him. But like a two-year-old, she rejected everything that she couldn’t understand.
Fortunately, I was blessed by marrying an extremely patient and kind man. He knew it was the disease talking, not my mother. It didn’t matter— it still hurt! It still looked like my mom. It still sounded like my mom. It was next to impossible not to respond. I started to take out my frustrations on my family. I cried— a lot! Mom loved it when Jeff and I would fight. She’d make comments like “What is he doing here? I thought we got rid of him!”
It felt as if I was losing my family. Yet somehow I had to face reality. I knew that I could no longer handle this alone. I prayed for God’s guidance about the difficult decision just ahead.
I live by the motto “Look, see, and tell the truth”. I didn’t have the time, mental capacity, or energy to give my husband, my children, or my grandchildren what they needed. I wasn’t taking care of myself. Finally, I moved Mom back into an Alzheimer’s care center. It was the right decision, but it was also the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. It felt like abandoning my baby! What would she do without me? What if she got scared? What if she needed me? What if no one knew what she was trying to say? What if she thought I didn’t love her anymore?
Mom is now around “eighteen months” on her age ladder. She babbles and uses her hands to try to tell me what’s going on. Her face lights up with delight when I come to visit. She blurts out one of the few words she has left. “Really? Really?” she stammers. Mom is in diapers most of the time and has trouble keeping her balance. In most every way, she’s a toddler.
I bathe her (she loves playing in the water!), fix her hair, or go with her for ice cream. My favorite time now is cuddling on the couch and reading Bible stories to her. She just loves hearing my voice, but it’s the sound of my voice, not the words and stories, that provides solace and acceptance. I try to give her everything I can. I want to take care of her the way she took care of me. When I tuck her in at night and tell her I love her, I’m almost overcome with joy. She just smiles and in a timid little voice says, “I lo- lo- lo- love you too.” The disease changed everything, but there’s one thing that it can’t take away from me: She is still my mom and I love her with all my heart.
Excerpted from Strength for the Moment by Lori Hogan. Copyright © 2012 by Lori Hogan.
Excerpted by permission of Image, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved.
No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
March 26, 2012 at 4:05 pm | Posted by greg
Great story! So moving!!!!!
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March 30, 2012 at 2:36 pm | Posted by Ed G
Your beautiful and heartbreaking story reminds us to treasure every moment we're able to have meaningful dialogue with those we love. I will certainly let those I care about hear me tell them I love them more often because of your words.
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March 29, 2012 at 5:03 pm | Posted by Dee Brandt
Awesome. Absolutely woderful Great job. I amso rud f yo, and you mom woul be too hugs,to you.
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March 29, 2012 at 11:12 pm | Posted by Ann Dunn
Thanks for telling me about your story. You were blessed with the strength to share ,help, and comfort your mother. Awesome!
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March 29, 2012 at 11:45 pm | Posted by Melanie
Fantastic! You did a wonderful job Aunt Luann!!
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March 30, 2012 at 6:17 am | Posted by Jodi Meyer
This is so beautiful, LuAnn!! Congratulations on being published!! =)
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March 30, 2012 at 9:45 am | Posted by Matt Bernard
You are stronger than you know. Through trials He strengthens us, in fear He gives us peace and in time of loss He shows us true love.
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April 5, 2012 at 10:25 pm | Posted by Carol Tschampl-Diesing
LuAnn, what an amazingly beautiful story! Your words can provide inspiration and strength for those who are facing the same issue with a loved one. Thank you so much for sharing!
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April 20, 2012 at 1:39 am | Posted by Jorge
Well in Ireland and England its the 4th Sunday of Lent so it was March 14th. Switzerland shares the same date as the US, the 2nd Sunday of May. Its aulcalty different in a lot of countries though the American date is the most common. Ireland, UK and Nigeria have the same day and many other countries have their own date. It's May 10th in Mexico.(I'm not some calender geek by the way, I just wiki'd it )
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April 13, 2012 at 10:20 am | Posted by Robert M Jones
LuAnn Please be aware that there is help available. Suggest you go to www.abchealthreport.com, then go to www.lifevantage.com/209646 and read about www.pubmed.gov. In the search box put PROTANDIM and click on search button! You should get 10 peer-review reports which you can pass on to your Mom's doctor or you can search for yourself by putting Protandim & Alzheimer (name of disease) in the search box and read #10. Print the abstract and pass to Nursing Home Director. For more information go to www.docmarvin.com and check out his weekly Phone Calls. Or go to his Archives and check out #10 first. I believe there are 1 - 12 now available. God designed our bodies and with this God given formula He can heal it!
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April 15, 2012 at 12:21 am | Posted by Tiberia Forrest
I have a friend whose husband has just been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and your concept of the two way ladder is quite excellent. Not only does it help explain the present, but it provides a guide for the future as we monitor changes in our loved one's declining mental, emotional and physical status. We can't stop our loved one as he falls slowly down the ladder, but we can be there every step of the way to lovingly cushion his pathway. Thank you for such beautiful imagery.
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April 15, 2012 at 7:12 pm | Posted by Carol Rempfer
Thank you for sharing your story. Your Mom was so blessed to have your insightful, compassionate care. The ladder analogy is perfect, gives one a perspective into the cruel disease process of Alzheimers.
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April 21, 2012 at 3:58 pm | Posted by Grammy Blick
Over the last ten years, three lovely ladies in the early 70's were diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I'll never forget the first one's sharing her diagnosis at a Ladies Meeting. "They say I'm losing my mind," she told us, and we promised to help her husband. The ladies have. He visits her every day, feeds her almost every meal. The second lady's confusion was not only slow in coming, but it came at a time when her husband's cruelty was brought out in the open and they separated after more than half a century's marriage. The opposite of the first. The third was diagnosed just last year. Her husband sold their farm, bought a newer camping setup and vowed to take her anywhere she wanted to go as long as she was able. She loves traveling and her backward ladder has quite a way to go. Each situation different, but the journey ever so similar. We can give thanks for stories shared and caregiver situations available to help us along the way. My own situation is a Beloved Husband fighting Myasthenia Gravis crises -- yes, two of them within six months of diagnosis. Thank you for a site where we can share, and the book with more stories, too.
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April 23, 2012 at 6:58 pm | Posted by melissa
God Bless you and your family, you are a kind and thoughtful soul. Thankyou for sharing your Life with others who care about what your going through. I understand what you are going through. Melissa
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April 29, 2012 at 1:12 pm | Posted by valentinebj
Incredibly insightful and a shining beacon to all.
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