Yes, for me too. That was written a couple months before we moved Mom to a skilled nursing locked memory ward closer to us, on the wide St. Johns River--which she thought was the ocean. So about 14 month before she died.
With each move, after a couple of weeks she didn't remember that she had lived somewhere else. She was one of those blessed people who was a sweet old lady dementia patient, not an angry or frightened or depressed one. It was clear to me that she had worked through much of her repressed history and transcended it. So she wasn't still acting out disfunctional behaviors while in dementia.
The only exception wasn't really an exception. Since she had regressed to "terrible twos" mentality in some things, she fought the nurses when they feed or clothed or bathed her. "I can do it myself!"
Put she was otherwise a sweet old lady who perked up when we visited. Even if she didn't remember who we were, she remembered that we loved each other.
Blessings, Linda. At the time this was happening, writing these stories was a key part of staying in my faith and practice. Mom was my closest friend throughout her life. A joy to be reminded of her as I reread and edit these old stories.
I remember and understand your feelings. It is so hard to let go when that time comes. Thank you for the walk down memory lane.
Ow.
This is one of your finest.
It lands differently now, now that my own Senior Witch is gone…
Yes, for me too. That was written a couple months before we moved Mom to a skilled nursing locked memory ward closer to us, on the wide St. Johns River--which she thought was the ocean. So about 14 month before she died.
With each move, after a couple of weeks she didn't remember that she had lived somewhere else. She was one of those blessed people who was a sweet old lady dementia patient, not an angry or frightened or depressed one. It was clear to me that she had worked through much of her repressed history and transcended it. So she wasn't still acting out disfunctional behaviors while in dementia.
The only exception wasn't really an exception. Since she had regressed to "terrible twos" mentality in some things, she fought the nurses when they feed or clothed or bathed her. "I can do it myself!"
Put she was otherwise a sweet old lady who perked up when we visited. Even if she didn't remember who we were, she remembered that we loved each other.
Thanks for this!
Blessings, Linda. At the time this was happening, writing these stories was a key part of staying in my faith and practice. Mom was my closest friend throughout her life. A joy to be reminded of her as I reread and edit these old stories.