I spent the few weeks before Christmas visiting with my mother who at 98 is suffering from Alzheimer's disease. The last time I visited with her in December of 2007, we could still hold some conversations, she could still recognize me, she could still feed herself and take care of her personal hygiene. "Wow!" I said to myself, "this old, lovable, proud, high achieving bird can still fly high!!"
But this time, it was very different and heart wrenching for me. In all the weeks I stayed with her, she did not recognize me. Yet she kept telling me about me. "Come, this lady sitting here, do you know that I have a daughter called Norah?" "Mama," I would say holding her hand and looking into her eyes, "It's me and I have been with you for days." She would then either say “OK” or “Is it really you?,” then immediately regress to her life as a girl living with her parents. Luckily, she had a wonderful childhood within a noble family. This was reflected on her face as she talked and even 'interacted' with her parents and brother.
It is sad to see one's mother reduced to a level where life as we know it, no longer has a meaning, where she cannot eat unless fed, where she cannot attend to her toilet needs unless assisted. I shed buckets of tears during my stay with her. I kept remembering a lady who ran a busy domestic science school and whose very presence was enough to put fear in people. In my mind’s eyes, I could still hear her witty words and feel her sharp mind and even witness her cut my medical father down with the turn of her head. Yes, father had a better education but mother went through the University of Life and emerged sharper than a Harvard graduate. Together, they brought up children who did not only fear God but also grew up respecting man but with our shoulders held high.
Watching my mother going through what seems like second childhood was not amusing. It reminded me again that this life can often end up controlling us despite all our efforts to take charge of it. But I was also grateful to God for His mercies and the fact that the only part of her suffering is her mind. The rest of her is as tough as nails and she actually looks like she could last another 20 years! Her eyesight is perfect, her teeth are strong and complete and she hardly suffers a sniffle. She sings all day long (songs she learned as a young girl), and enjoys her food.
I thank and admire all those who care for Alzheimer sufferers. Mother is lovingly cared for by my youngest brother Kenneth, whose wife happens to be a registered nurse, a maid and others who love her.
I am happy that I could be with her. Yes, she did not know that it was me, but I knew that it was her. She fed me as a child so I was able and glad to feed her this time round. She washed and clothed me and I have done the same for her. But more importantly, I listened to her stories, respected her and actually had a wonderfully good time visiting with her.
