Finding Momma | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Finding Momma | Previous Challenge Entry
By Shirley Thomas
08/21/16
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When my mother’s health began to decline several years ago, I became her caregiver. She suffered from dementia. Anyone who has watched a loved one suffer from dementia or Alzheimer’s disease understands the day to day roller coaster ride both diseases take you on as the caregiver and the patient.

In the beginning, most of my mother’s days were normal, and then she would hit a series of days of forgetfulness, anger and fear.

The normal days became less and the erratic days increased. Once the ‘crazy’ days passed, she had no memory of what had taken place; but I did. Her primary care physician had prepared me as much as possible for her declining days. I reminded myself repeatedly of his words, “People suffering with dementia and Alzheimer’s disease usually turn on their primary care-takers, so you have to learn not to take the angry words or accusations personal.”

My mind could accept this explanation, but my heart was not as accepting.

Her physician tried medications, and they may have slowed the process down, but none of them had the power to reverse the evident damage of the disease. She became more fearful and distrustful, and the one common thread which seemed to exist in her confusion and fear was her sincere desire to return to her childhood home with her momma. That’s the time period she seemed to settle in each time, and it was in that stage of her life, she seemed to find peace. There were many times I would drive her around the neighborhood while she diligently searched for her childhood home.

Upon seeing her current home, she would say, “That’s it, that’s where I live!”

I would find some brief solace in knowing she recognized something in her present life, only to have it evaporate as she walked in the door and become angry because her momma was not there.

At first, I fought her conversations by attempting to keep her in the future. This only angered her more and frustrated me. Her mind continued to take her to a time period in her life where I didn’t exist. That’s what made it so difficult and frustrating for me, plus it broke my heart that she no longer knew who I was or that I even existed as her daughter. My mother had three older sisters, (all three deceased), and throughout the last year of her life, in her mind, I was one or the other of the three, depending on where her memory bank opened.

After much prayer and many failed attempts to keep my mother’s memory current, I made up my mind to become whoever she needed me to be in order to give her as much peace as possible during her final days on earth. I decided to help her JOIE DE VIVRE, and in doing so, I also achieved the same in a smaller degree. By making this choice, I learned a lot about my mother and dad, my grandmother, and her sisters. Some days I was the sister she was angry with because of a silly argument; and other days she blushed as she confided in one of her beloved sisters, of a young man’s blue eyes, who happened to be the man she married, my dad. There were days we laughed together, and on just as many, we cried. I was allowed to be a part of a care-free and happy time of my mother’s life, and in doing so we both found delight in being alive.

The last weeks of her life on earth were difficult. The disease tortured her mind. She stopped eating and would not take her medicine. Her eyes were vacant, and she rarely spoke. The night before she left for her permanent home in heaven, I climbed into the bed beside her, held her tiny body beside mine, and with tears streaming down my face, told her to go find her momma. A few hours later she died peacefully in her sleep. Though my heart was broken, I found peace in knowing my mother first of all, was now whole and well in the presence of her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and at last, she had found her momma. Finally, she was experiencing JOIE DE VIVRE.

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