We just had our third Christmas without Mama.  Wow.  As I run into people almost daily who are going through Alzheimers with someone they love, it is a constant reminder of the journey, one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.  While it is sometimes difficult, it means so much to me when someone asks me to lend an ear, a shoulder, share a caregiver’s name… I will always be there for anyone who needs me through something so difficult.

Just Friday night, we were out having dinner and ran into a couple we think so much of.  They were laughing with friends and having a great time and as the wife started to leave, she came over to say goodbye.  Through instant tears, she told us her husband had Alzheimers and times were changing….. we had no idea.  He looked so, well, normal, and we had not heard.  It brought back the memories of when Mama looked so “normal” and the pain we were experiencing behind the scenes, the lack of normalcy no one saw in those early stages.  My heart broke for our friend, what she is experiencing today, but what I know she will experience going forward.

I wrote this below in 2013 and thought I would share for those who can relate.  It was Christmas and Mom was about five years into her Alzheimers and three years before leaving us.  Still hard to read today… and ironically, I found one of those dishtowels still in a gift box in the attic just this year.  It brought a few tears and maybe a smile as well.

December 24, 2013

Moments with Mama… our usual tradition over the years has been to go to my parents for Christmas Day. There are 12 of us total and there were always too many gifts. Mama was always buying just one more thing for someone so it kept accumulating, and often she’d find presents she’d hidden months later and forgotten about.  We’d laugh but she loved it and so did we. As Mama’s disease progressed though, we knew three Christmases ago something had to change because all the fun and chaos caused her to go to her room and peek through the door to see if we were still there. I will never forget seeing her do that as long as I live.  We then made changes and did one small gift per person to keep it calmer for her. During this transition, Daddy had also pared down to a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, which was sort of funny in itself, but this year we insisted we had to have the old tree back so out it came in our attempt to reinstate at least one tradition and maybe some normalcy for Mama. Little did we know the panic it would cause. Mama then worried herself (and Daddy) to death why there were no presents under the tree! It distressed her terribly so this week, I found myself wrapping 12 “fake” presents to go under her tree in hopes of bringing peace to her spirit. As I sat wrapping these pretend gifts and putting a grandchild’s name on each one, I cried. I was overwhelmed realizing what we were doing. I couldn’t help but wonder if my children would do this simple act for me if I were in Mama’s shoes. And in case you’re wondering, yes, Mama would know if the boxes were empty so each grandchild is getting a brand new, are you ready… dishcloth or pot holder! Hey, I had to think quick and cheap x 12 and I need dishcloths and pot holders! The expressions should be worth it and I know Mama’s peace will be. Just enjoy your family because next Christmas may be so different than this one. I know I’ll never wrap another present or look at another dishcloth again without thinking about this Christmas and thinking about my Mama.

To those of you going through this dreaded disease with someone you care about, one day at a time…. that’s all we kept saying, one day at a time.  Laugh when you can, cry when you have to, reach out to others when you need to (including me), and just know you are not alone.