Writing in Snow

Sometimes I want to cry & sometimes I want to laugh

Word count: 749

My mother is afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease. Alzheimer’s is a devastating disease that affects the entire family, but it is especially hard on the caregiver. I am my mother’s caregiver. I am the daughter who is with twenty-four/seven. I am the one who witnesses the difference between the way my mother was and the way she is now. I can detect the indications of what she will become when the meds no longer hold the disease at bay.

There are times, when I want to cry. Times when I want to walk out the front door and never walk back in again, this will not happen. I cannot leave my mother to the care of strangers who do not understand her or the things she suffered in her 89 years. There are other times, when Mom does or says something so bizarre or so outlandish, that I cannot help but smile or even laugh.

Today was one of those days when Mom did or said things that made me want to cry and to laugh. This morning, Mom ate my bagel. I toasted bagels for breakfast. Mom’s bagel I spread with peanut butter and set it on a T.V. tray with a cup of coffee in the breakfast room. Went back into the kitchen, spread butter on my bagel and placed it on the kitchen counter while I went into another room.

When I returned, Mom had decided that the bagel setting in the kitchen belonged to her. Mom had gone into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She did not remember that she had a cup of coffee in the breakfast room. She did not remember she had a bagel spread with peanut butter by the cup of coffee.

Under no circumstances, inform an Alzheimer’s sufferer that the bagel he or she is holding belongs to you. In this case, possession is 100% of the law and the better part of valor is putting yourself in the afflicted person’s illusion. Find something else to eat, even if the only thing in the fridge is leftovers.

One of the symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease is extreme anger. When an Alzheimer’s suffer gets angry then he or she hits, even those held most dear. The sufferer cannot help striking out in anger and does not remember doing it. When Mom gets angry, I want to cry because this is not the gentle woman I remember from my childhood and youth.

This afternoon, Mom brought her partial lower dentures into the living room. She said, “I tried these on and the fit me, so they must be mine. I am going to put them in my mouth and wear them.” All I could say was, “Yes, Mom, those are your dentures.” Then I laughed, Mom did not know what I was laughing about, even if I told her, Mom would not understand. I am not sure I understand why I laughed.

Mom does not know she has Alzheimer’s disease. It is not something she would believe anyway. Each day is a test of endurance and faith. Each day is a new surprise and mystery. I open kitchen draws and find unusual items among the flat ware. Mom’s glasses, a pair of beads, or rubber bands. I found a can of tomato juice and a can apple juice under the stovetop. I found the ice cream in the refrigerator and not the freezer.

I do a room check when I wash dishes because Mom will leave a plate containing half a peanut butter sandwich on the couch or the love seat. I was sorting dirty laundry a few days ago and found a small half-eaten bag of chips among the sheets. I open the refrigerator and find soda cans containing water.

I am hoping to open a drawer and find the instruction booklet to the Microwave. The Microwave does not work the way it should and I think the problem is operator error. I need the instruction booklet to find out what I am doing wrong. Unfortunately, Mom put that manual away. I have no idea where she put it. Mom says she never had it, she does not even remember seeing the manual.

Eventually, I will run across the Microwave manual somewhere. Perhaps it is in her room, hidden in a dresser drawer. It could be in the spare room, Mom goes in there a lot and I have no idea what she does in there or carries into that room.