After several attempts to come up with a workable date, D and I were able to go see my sister-in-law Ann who lives about 2 hours from us. She recently needed to have a pacemaker put in to regulate her heart beat, and we decided that we have to get to see her more frequently.
In lovely weather the drive is a nice one. Today wasn't lovely, but we also didn't have the winter weather we would have encountered in a normal year. It was just a gray, damp day. We listened to some old radio shows, and as we weren't expected until lunch time and were early, we made a stop to poke around in some shops. Then we went on our way.
Ann is about fifteen years older than I am, but that was never an issue in our friendship even early on when it could have been. What makes this a noteworthy enough visit to share is that now she is beginning to show signs of dementia.
I don't know if today was a good day or if the pacemaker has improved her mental state or whether it was a combination of the above (probably the latter). Whatever it was, the visit was enjoyable, but I found myself mentally ticking off behaviors that made me think, "Yes, this is not Ann-like; this must be a sign of the onset of dementia."
On our way home, I thought about that - the mental check list - and initially felt ashamed of it. But then I thought, "Wait a minute. I've stopped denying that her mental capacities may be floundering. That's a good thing. By recognizing the changes, I will be able to deal with them and accept them as they appear. I won't get impatient and expect her to be as she was; rather, I'll accept her as she is now."
It sounds good, and I think it is. But I know it isn't fool proof. Even though I don't live with her, there may be times when I want to throw up my hands and walk away. Yet, in the long run, knowing some of what to expect will make it easier to plan more frequent trips. It will be easier to spend time with a dearly loved sister as she is now and not spend the visits regretting that she isn't the vivacious woman she once was.
The slip-slide of mental faculties is dreadful to witness. As long as my visits are pleasurable for her and help her care giver, and I can continue to be a patient, caring person, then I will find a way to bear witness to that disintegration. Then possibly I can tell those who may have to do the same for me what they can expect - not from me - but from themselves and their own feelings.
Passing on that knowledge to the next generation would be a fitting legacy for Ann, the woman, the mother, the teacher, the priest.
You've discovered for yourself what I've been doing these last couple years. My mom definitely isn't who she once was. The woman who made four fisherman knit pullovers one year for Christmas has spent almost two years working on a cardigan for my daughter. But Saturday is her day - and while I see her decline, at least she is still here with me.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy Ann while you can.