Back Home by Chris Hardie
The elevator doors opened and we stepped out onto the secured floor of the memory care unit looking for my mother.
We didn’t have to look far – she was directly ahead of us sitting in the dining room talking to a care worker.
“Hi Mom,” I said as she greeted my wife Sherry and me with a big smile.
“Well, hello you two,” she said.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Well, pretty good,” she said. A couple of months ago she had been accidentally knocked down while trying to intervene in a dispute between two other residents. It set her back a few weeks, but she recovered.
One of her favorite t-shirts from a few years ago read, “An ornery German is a sour kraut.” My brother opined that she intervened because she thought she was back in school again and acting in her role as principal.
Mom turns 88 in February and is very frail. She needs a wheelchair to get around. She also has dementia. It’s likely that she has Alzheimer’s disease. According to the Alzheimer’s Association, Alzheimer’s is the most common cause of dementia, accounting for 60 to 80 percent of the cases. There is no single test to determine Alzheimer’s.
Mom has been in assisted living for more than four years. Two years ago she was moved into memory care as her ability to take care of herself lessened and her dementia worsened.
The previous day a hospice case worker had called to give me an update on her visit with Mom. She said Mom was in good spirits but really wanted a baby girl. She never had a daughter – just brother and me.
Sherry and I bought a female baby doll. I never thought I’d ever buy my mother a doll, but it was Christmas and all that’s left of her worldly possessions fit into a small room. Her needs are taken care of – this was clearly a want.
“We’ve got you a Christmas present,” I told her, handing Mom a gift bag.
“For me?” she asked.
“Yes, just for you,” I said.
Millions of Americans are impacted by Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia. It was in 1906 that German physician Alois Alzheimer first described a disease with profound memory loss and microscopic brain changes that now bears his name.
Today, the Alzheimer’s Association says, an estimated 7.2 million Americans 65 and older – 11% of that age group – have Alzheimer’s; 74% are older than 75. Two-thirds are women and older black Americans are twice as likely to have the disease or other dementias as older whites. By 2050 some 12.7 million Americans 65 or older are projected to have Alzheimer’s.
The cost of Alzheimer’s – direct care, unpaid care and lost productivity – is estimated at between $305 to $450 billion annually in our country alone and is projected to exceed $1 trillion by 2050. One in 7 Medicare dollars are spent on dementia care.
Mom opened the gift bag and was simply overjoyed. I helped her remove the doll from its packaging and she hugged it, kissed and cradled it in her arms. She immediately started talking to the doll, who didn’t mind the fragments, non sequiturs and lost sentences that are Mom’s form of verbal communication these days.
Like many families, this is not our first go-round with dementia. My father had dementia during his final years too. But his illness was different. The once verbose man with a booming voice became quiet and withdrawn. The battle inside his mind was played out mainly in silence.
Mom is the opposite. She became very talkative and is uncomfortable with silence. She enjoys the company of others and is as active as her frail body allows her to be. She lives in the moment.
There’s so much we don’t know about Alzheimer’s and there is still no cure. And while it’s not usually directly hereditary, genetics do play a role. Both of my parents, my grandfather and great-grandfather on my paternal side and my great-grandmother on my maternal side all suffered from dementia.
So what does that mean for me, an aging Boomer closing in on 65? If genetics are in play, my odds are not good. Also not good was a brain scan done nearly six years ago that showed potential signs of cognitive decline.
That’s a bridge I will cross if that’s my destiny. Perhaps I will be spared. Perhaps I won’t. None of us really know. I will cling to the fact that despite what some think, serious mental decline is not a normal part of aging.
In many ways it’s a miracle that Mom has lived this long. In 2007 she suffered two cerebral hemorrhages, the second a grade 4 on a 5-point scale. The survival rate on one hemorrhage of that size is 20 percent. But she fought the odds and won.
Our visit with Mom was not long, but it was clear that our gift was a home run. She smiled, laughed, cuddled and talked to her doll.
“We love you Mom,” I said, giving her a gentle hug. She hugged Sherry and called her by name.
Later that day some of my brother’s family visited Mom. When asked if she saw Sherry and me that morning, her answer was no. She had no recollection of our visit.
It’s best to take life by the moment.
Chris Hardie spent more than 30 years as a reporter, editor
