Sunday, October 9, 2016

I have not written in a while. I has become painful to recap the day and record mom’s decline—or as the aides over at Hearthstone say, “she’s sliding.” Mom hasn’t been to Hearthstone in quite a while, her dementia is too far advanced for them. Only today, I saw a woman there whom I had not seen in 2 months. She had been relatively healthy and even somewhat feisty. But I was dismayed when today she said she had to leave my prayer gathering because “My husband is going to pick me up.” Of course, her husband is long gone and now she is “going” or “sliding.” I spoke to an aide briefly about it. Apparently, this woman gets worse after breakfast and as the day wears on. Life eventually wears us all down to varying degrees. I just wrote to my uncle and tried to assure him that we would not go to way of the rest of our family members. His brother and two sisters suffered dementia, and now mom has joined them.

Meanwhile, I continue to study music, Japanese, and Italian. Is it possible continued study will help avert or delay something so heinous as dementia? Or is mental decline inevitable? Doesn’t seem to be for everybody. But then, who can know it? Better not dwell on it, better to spend my time studying, reading, enjoying life while I can.

All this time, mom keeps calling me.

Did I wash my face?

Yes, you did. Twice already.

When are we leaving?

We aren’t.

Oh.

Sandy! Marge! Sandy! Do I have to wash my face?

No, you did already.

Oh. When are we leaving?

We aren’t leaving.

Where are going?
Nowhere. We are staying home. Would you like to go for a walk?

No.

Would you like to visit Betty?

No.

Would you like to go to a movie?
No. I’ll stay here.

 Sandy! Sandy! Sandy! Do I have to wash my face?…

 It’s a lot easier to deal with someone other than a relative or with someone whom you can leave at the end of the day or your shift.

Years ago, Jerry, one of my yoga students, came over to pray for his two aunts, who had just died. We had suspected foul play, as his cousin was caring for the aunts. The cousin was a drug abuser, as was her boyfriend. It is likely that the aunts drove the cousin crazy with questions, requests, or whatever. Both were victims of dementia. The cousin, however, was hardly in a position to deal with them with equanimity given her condition and theirs. These days, I am less inclined to believe ill of the cousin, despite her drug addiction. Dementia is difficult to deal with on a 24-hour basis, even if you are living a relatively healthful life.

Right now, I am going to walk my pup down by the river. I have had enough of Sandy, do I need to wash my face? Sandy, where are we going? Sandy, when are they coming? I need fresh air and sanity. So does my pup!