The weight

For so long, I had no change to report about Mom. She walked, talked and fed herself and maintained those functions without much obvious decline for quite some time. I wondered how long it could possibly last. Sometimes I lamented the fact that her illness was prolonged by this stability. But she was predictable, for a very long time. And I could have pleasant visits with her because she would laugh, she could enjoy a root beer or a Frappuccino, we could take a walk and hold hands, and she could speak the occasional meaningful phrase. She noticed when I arrived and she could still pucker up and give me a kiss when I said goodbye.

Now, those functions are basically gone. I’m told she can walk once people help her stand up. But I can’t lift her out of a chair by myself because she does nothing to assist the effort. She doesn’t vocalize much at all, and almost 100 percent of what she says is nonsense syllables. I can’t even guess what the sounds mean, but I try to maintain a steady stream of affirmative responses. She might occasionally break into a smile. She very willingly eats whatever she is fed. But she remains impassive. Eating doesn’t seem to give her any pleasure, as it has in the past. Even pie doesn’t produce much enthusiasm.

I once engaged in a comment thread on a New York Times blog post about whether there could be joy with Alzheimer’s. Sure there can, I said. At that time, Mom could be a source of joy for me, and I hoped my attention gave her some joy. She hadn’t known me for a long time, but she liked me. She saw me as a pal. She might think I’m a pal now, but she can’t show it. I’m afraid that any joy associated with visiting with Mom is gone, for her because she’s a blank slate and for me – because she’s a blank slate. This reality is weighing on me.

I am pretty confident that I’ll get used to this, especially if Mom’s decline continues at such a slow pace. It will become the new normal. That will be helpful because right now, I don’t like myself very much. My outlook on so many things – Mom, employment, housework, yard work, summer heat, my dog’s health, my own aging, travel, exercise, free time, finances – you name it – is grimmer than usual. That’s saying something. I’d like to snap out of it.

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2 comments so far

  1. patwhite67 on

    Emily, How I feel for you with the depression. No one understands unless they have been through the caregiving.

  2. momsbrain on

    Hi, Pat-So sorry for the slow response. Thank you for commenting! I can still be surprised by the sadness. It’s one thing to know how this is going to go and another thing entirely to witness it up close. I hope you are well.


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