The bubble of Alzheimer's

My sweet mama has Alzheimer's. She has had the disease for close to 10 years but, just recently it has become full blown. A year ago, we moved her into a resident care facility because it had just become too much for my 80 year old father to take care of her on a daily basis.

After recently spending time with my sweet mama, I began to get a feel for what it must be like to live with Alzheimer's. I think it must be somewhat like living in a bubble. Never really experiencing life in 3D but rather looking through a blurred lens and  never quite being able to grasp your reality. I got the feeling she didn't think her home was hers, but that it was hauntingly similar to hers. She would look out the window and say, "Do you see that house across the street? It's just like the one across from my house." Or as we would drive around our old neighborhood she'd say "I know I should remember this but I just don't. None of this has anything to do with me." There were also many times she would say things that made no sense - a sort of rambling or unrelated series of words.

My mom has difficulty walking. She has to hold onto something at all times. She can't walk very far before she is out of breath. I began to think that it probably feels like walking through one of those "fun houses" at an amusement park. Only, it is so NOT fun. I imagine it feels a lot like walking across a river on narrow log. You take every step ever so gingerly for fear of falling into the water. I've experienced that feeling a few times and cannot imagine going through every moment of my life like that.

It breaks my heart to watch my sweet mama, a once vibrant, optimistic, sunny- dispositioned lady become a mere shadow of her former self.

Mama no longer knows me by name but, I have to believe that she knows that I am someone who loves her and someone that she loves back. The smile that breaks out across her face when she sees me, the way she runs her fingers gently across my hands as we visit (like she used to when I was little), the way she lights up when we sing old songs together. All of these things assure me that my mama is still here - the most important part of her is still here with us - her heart.