ALZHEIMER’S, YOUR PARENTS AND NEW REALITIES
Will Dad ever concede?
These days Dad is a sapling in an ice storm, twig-thin and stooped under his burdens. Meanwhile, Alzheimer’s has appropriated Mom’s remaining joys.
For five grueling days at Thanksgiving, Mom’s adult day program closes for the holidays. On our call, Dad sounds close to surrender.
To clear his head, Dad takes Mom for a walk in the backyard. Mom trips, falls and sprains her knee. The strain of loading a confused and hurting Mom into the car, coaxing her through a medical exam, and pleading with her to wear the knee brace is like a garden hose to the face.
Dad begins Mom’s application to a Memory Unit.
A true romantic, Dad schedules Mom’s admission for January 15th, imagining a final family Christmas. The dream passes quickly, and Dad awakens to the truth: This Christmas is unique from all Christmases past.
Mom, to her credit, has done everything she can to help us see what suits her Christmas celebration best, given her advancing Alzheimer’s. Mom wants to be home. Mom prefers quiet. Mom’s is calmest in her routine.
After so many years of resistance, Dad surrenders. We plan Christmas around what is best for Mom. Dad decides they will stay at their home, in NC. House guests being more than either can manage, Dad confides that my company, in small doses only, would be welcome. Randy and I tally our hotel points and book a room nearby.
Dad insists that the grandchildren enjoy Christmas at their own house ninety miles away. My sister Diane invites my husband’s parents to join them.
And like that, the Acceptance Christmas plans are settled.
Up the mountain in NC with my parents, we take a fresh approach to Christmas. Dad, Randy and I calibrate all Christmas activities to Mom. Christmas eve at home. A duet of carols, my part with words, Mom’s part a hum.
It is a very merry Christmas. Calm and bright.