Who Am I?

Another crazy weekend is behind me.  Good weekend? I don't know, I guess I'll have to figure out a sliding scale to determine that sort of thing from now on. Saturday with the mom and the rest of the family (May is birthday month) was ok, we had hot dogs and hamburgers and birthday cake out at my brother and sister-in-law's place. Afterwards, Mom and I spent the afternoon together walking out at the dam. 

Later that day, a small catastrophe struck while we were doing a load of laundry. She had turned on the tv, but the remote came up missing. YIKES!!!  We looked high and low, and she eventually (as she usually does) tried to blame my brother for taking it ("He takes things, you know.) Anyway, I zipped down to CVS and bought a universal remote. Took me half an hour to program it, and she didn't like it because it was different, but it worked.

Catastrophe two happened Sunday morning when she came out of her bedroom and asked me who I was and how I got into her house. Absolutely no recognition at all. So after I told her who I was (and she denied it repeatedly), I told her that I would take a shower and leave, and she agreed that was best. When I opened the drawer in her bathroom cabinet to get the curling iron out, lo and behold, there was the remote. I initially thought to go get my $15 bucks back at CVS for the universal, but instead decided to put it away, cause it will undoubtedly happen again. I did manage to get her outside for a little walk before I left, and she was feeling a little better about me (whoever I was).

It's going to take me some time to get used to being a stranger in my mom's eyes.  I can see how upset she is when she can't make a connection, whether it's recognizing someone, finding her purse, or trying to put a name to an object.  She knows that something is wrong with her, and she can't figure out how to fix it.  All we can do as a family is to put our arms around her and reassure her that everything is going to be ok.  And I really hope it will be.

Parenting My Parent

I got to thinking on my way back to Buffalo yesterday how this walk down Alzheimer's Avenue is going to be alot like becoming a parent to a small child.  The questions repeated over and over, the imaginary friends (or strangers), the made-up stories, the bathing and grooming chores, the clingy behavior.  And because I made a concious choice many years ago to remain childless, there is some small resentment building in me that "parenting my parent" is going to be a big part of my foreseeable future.

On the flip side, there is a part of me that is beginning to take satisfaction in my ability to learn these new chores.  I'm getting more comfortable curling and combing mom's hair.  Cleaning her house (little by little) and making things better for her - healthwise at least.  Buying groceries.  Helping her choose which clothes to wear.  Holding her hand as we cross the street.

All those things she once did for me.  Funny how the wheel turns.