Glimpses Of My Mother (My Mom’s Alzheimer’s)

Photo by Jeremy Bezanger on Unsplash

“Good morning Beautiful. Are you ready to get up?”

I greet Mom and she smiles. It is like a ray of sunshine through the cloud of non-responsiveness that normally surround my mother.

I guide her to swing her legs over the side of the bed and rock her back and forth until she is able to stand without sliding down to the floor. Even with my assistance she cannot bear weight first thing in the morning. It’s as if she has to re-learn how to stand and walk each morning.

I dress her, reminding her how pretty she is. There is never a response. I hug her, remembering how infrequently we are held. Today she melts into the hug, suddenly the non-responsive imposter is nowhere to be found.

I lead her to the table for our routine of fruit, water, medications and supplements. (Breakfast will follow at the center.) She grimaces after the tablespoon of coconut oil but swallows it without hesitation. I sometimes have to hide it in a smoothie or pudding, but somewhere inside, the memory of her former health practices live on in her acceptance of the oil. I remind her that it is good for her memory. She nods slightly with a faint smile. She eats the banana slices with relish, and I dutifully give her the useless medications that have only been a witness to her decline. Then I offer her the natural supplements, reminding her of the name and…