Cody Updates by Mom

I know the title sound ominous.  It is.  In the grand scheme of life, we are losing.  We have come up against a foe that, simply, we cannot beat.  There is no medicine for healing the brain.  There is no miracle that will happen.  You may think that at some point, I should remember that God does great things.  That miracles do happen.  Believe me, I know they do.  I have a boy that will be 21 soon that had less than 5% chance of living.  Sometimes miracles do happen.  They are happening for my great niece right now as she fights in the same NICU that my son did.  Alzheimer’s, however, is different.  The progression is different for each person facing this horrible disease but in the end, it is fatal.  In no way, can I pretend that it is not.

My mom (Aunt Jo, Gma, Grandma, Great Grandma, Sister, Friend) is dying of a disease I cannot stop.  Somewhere in my head I thought I was stronger and could somehow beat this thing.  I cannot.  She cannot.  It is winning the war.

We go through our lives making memories.  Making those things that are important to us matter.  My mother is walking backwards through those important times.  Walking backwards in memories without the understanding of the present.  How do you understand that you loved someone but they have been gone for many years.  How do you deal with an argument you had with your father 45 years ago is not something you need to deal with today.  The past and the present slamming together to give a woman a confusing and sad reality.

I know that you may read this and think it is dark, it is giving up, it is abandoning hope.  It is.  I will not deny that at all.  What I will add to this is that there is still a small amount of Joanne in there.  That person that loved her family and added any spare kids to her family is still there.  Today, she is just something a little different.

She may not know who you are but she loves the fact that you come to visit her.  She may not recognize your face but she knows that you are important in her life and you matter.  Please know, this face, this small recognition, means all of the world.  My heart still is happy when that smile of hers lights up when I get close enough and say hi.  That look.  Those little things.  They mean the world.  My mom is in a place where she cannot control.  She cannot make you be the people that are walking around in her mind.  She knows that you are important and she loves you.  In the end, that is the gift I can give my mom.  Until the last day, I will tell her who I am and that I love her until the end of time.  I know that somewhere in the pieces that are left that she still sees me and loves me.

First of all, I would like to apologize for the above.  I needed to get out a lot before I could give you an update on my mom.  Knowing that this will reach people who have not followed my other blog, I want you to know what is going on.

Obviously, Alzheimer’s is taking my mom.  My mom is no longer able to recognize most of us.  Even my son, who was a hold out for a time, has seen the effects of her not even knowing he is in the room with her.  To all of you that follow our story, I do not know if she will know you.  This last weekend, mothers day, she was struggling to know me, my brother or Cody.  Recently, she has not been able to recognize Linda, who has been her caregiver for years.

We could talk at depth about the disease and the impact on life.  I want you to know, really know, where things are at.

Good, bad or otherwise this disease has taken hold and moved very fast for my mom.  Within months she is not being able to remember a lot.  I know that the sight issue is playing a part as her brain is trying to remember while her sight cannot see the person she is talking to.  What a horrible place to be.

So, what does all this mean.  In the end, my mom is fading away.  This week she let my sister know that “she is 20 and can dress herself” as her legs were in the sleeves of her sweatshirt, her jeans were on her arms and the “depends” was on her head.  It seems like a joke or a story that you would hear some other place.  It is not.  It is here.  It is today.  It is real.

You may be reading this and wondering what you can do.  You cannot cure her and how do you help.  You can help.  What I have learned is that it is not who comes to visit my mom but it is that they do.  She loves visitors.  She will talk your ear off about whatever is in her head at the time.  Be prepared for anything in the last few decades. This also gives her caregivers (my sister and family) a well needed break.  Even 30 minutes of not having to worry what she is doing is a lifetime of stress release for them.  I know it is hard.  I am almost an hour and a half away and I struggle to get up there.  To give a break.  You don’t even have to be recognized.  Your presence is a blessing.

In the end, my mom will likely not recognize you if you knew her after she was 20.  That is where she is today.  However, your love for her when you visit will mean more to her than any memory could.

I cannot express the amount of love, passion and respect that I feel for this wonderful woman.  She is strength beyond what I have seen.  This type of disease is not for the faint of heart and definitely not for those who don’t deal in realism.

This battle still goes on, daily.  It is unfortunately a losing battle against a foe we cannot see, hear or defeat.  In the end, that pisses me off more than anything.

A couple things that we are doing.  My mom will stay with Linda as long as we can make that happen.  Linda (and family) are willing to ensure that mom is surrounded by those that love her.  In the end, that is all that matters.  We are also adjusting things to ensure that her life insurance goes for her funeral and that she (my family) can get some additional care for her in these last days.  This is ultimately very important to everyone’s well being.

If you can, please visit.  She loves ice cream, especially from Dairy Queen (not sure where she got that) but just being with her and listening is all she really wants right now.  Really, it is all we can give.

No matter what, I ask for a prayer.  We are not only on the road that is not traveled but on the road that is seemingly lost.  My family, the people that care about my mom, need a little extra prayer to see that someday she will be with my dad in heaven and be okay.  Someday, the world will show the love to a woman that loved it and take her to a place of beauty and peace.

In the end, we remember.  Death tries to steal the memories that we have, it tries to replace that with heartbreak and tears.  We rise to show it that we are stronger than that, we can be more than just a memory.  We matter.