“And your… Kiss” (My Mom’s Alzheimer’s)

Photo by Joey Nicotra on Unsplash

The stereo beside Mom’s bed has attempted to keep her company all night with its stream of music, chatter and commercials. Now the announcer is threatening heat, rain and early morning traffic delays. Mom is lying in bed staring blankly into space.

“Good morning Mom! Are you ready to get up?” My enthusiasm is met with glum silence. This has become the norm. Still, I stay positive as I encourage her to get up, and remind her of all the people she will see today at the day program she attends. She still lays flat against the pillows. I take her by the arms and pull her up to a sitting position and gently rock her back and forth to remind her muscles how to tense and relax, simulating the act of getting up off the bed. It is a part of our increasingly detailed daily routine.

Eventually, and with significant assistance, she stands up in slow motion then immediately plops back onto the bed. We go through this until she is able to stand without wavering. I pull on her skirt and finish getting her dressed. She sits on the edge of the bed, silent. I reach for her hand and remind her that it’s time for her morning meds. She sits unmoving. Quietly she asks,

“What is happening to me?”

My heart breaks. I have nothing to offer but the truth, but it’s a hard pill to swallow so I am silent for a while. She waits…