It's not often I (Tina) willingly ‘volunteers’ to do this blog ….. But this week something quite significant happened that I would like to share with you all.
If you are a regular reader of this blog - you may be interested to know that I am one of 3 children - and our Mum is unfortunately in the latter stages of dementia
Hard Times
In late 2020, and 2021 Covid hit so many people really hard, and it was particularly hard on our family as it was during that time we had to make the difficult decision to move mum into a more secure environment—mainly for her own safety.
Some of you may be some of the privileged people to know Mum personally, and will know how massively independent she has been ever since she became a single mum of 3 almost 45 years ago. She changed the lightbulbs, did the DIY in the house, and did all the jobs that needed doing despite being female and small in stature. She was a physically petite lady (still is) but robust in her nature, very stubborn, and hilariously funny.
Dementia is a cruel creature, and has been exceptionally so on mum, changing her from a massive character into a person that we often fail to recognise, showing characteristics that really upset those around her, and causing her to be frustrated and distressed.
The Slow Death
Dementia, for me, could be described as 'The Slow Death', gradually taking away parts of mum's personality piece by piece.
Sometimes though, on rare occasions - mum comes to see us again when we visit, and this happened early last week when me and my sister Jenni visited her.
It was the day before Mothers Day, and we called in with cards and gifts for her, as we do every year. In the past, this has been a really joyful occasion, involving lots of cake, and lots of laughter, but over the past few years, has become less so, and a visit usually involves lots of tears beforehand, and even more afterwards.
Our choices of gifts this year reflected on the sad fact that mum has become quite destructive with her belongings, so a lovely cushion and a teddy bear with a flower were wise choices for obvious reasons.
On arrival, mum was with her one-to-one carer, and was already showing signs of frustration and distress, not wanting to sit down, and certainly not wanting to acknowledge her visitors.
My sister and I looked at each other. I think both of us were dreading how this visit would turn out!.
Eventually mum did sit down, and we were able to sit with her, and hold her hands, which proved a good way to calm her. But what else could we do to keep her sat down and calm ???.
It was the day before Mothers Day, and we called in with cards and gifts for her, as we do every year. In the past, this has been a really joyful occasion, involving lots of cake, and lots of laughter, but over the past few years, has become less so, and a visit usually involves lots of tears beforehand, and even more afterwards.
Our choices of gifts this year reflected on the sad fact that mum has become quite destructive with her belongings, so a lovely cushion and a teddy bear with a flower were wise choices for obvious reasons.
On arrival, mum was with her one-to-one carer, and was already showing signs of frustration and distress, not wanting to sit down, and certainly not wanting to acknowledge her visitors.
My sister and I looked at each other. I think both of us were dreading how this visit would turn out!.
Eventually mum did sit down, and we were able to sit with her, and hold her hands, which proved a good way to calm her. But what else could we do to keep her sat down and calm ???.
Beautiful Magic
It was like beautiful magic, watching our old mum reappear. It may have been somewhat briefly, but she was definitely there. Being brought up in the Salvation Army, we sang songs from Sunday school with her, and this was when she really came alive. Her babbling, confused conversation, turned to full sentences of ‘What A Friend We Have In Jesus', and ‘Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine’, she sang with enthusiasm, and a smile that lit up her whole body.
A week previously I had listened to a person talk about a dementia choir he had visited in a residential home (The Memory Action Group). He talked about the moment he first arrived, when people were just sitting around, staring into space, without making any eye contact. Just living in their own little worlds. Then he mentioned the miraculous change that occurred when the music started and they began to sing… That twinkle in their eyes returned, and their weak and frail bodies began to move in time to the beat of the music. For about an hour, they became somewhat as they once were, laughing, living, smiling, and singing. . But as the music stopped, and the singing ceased, they quickly returned to their own worlds, with little eye contact, frail bodies, and useless babble for communication..
I was seeing this same thing happen with mum right in front of my eyes, and we enjoyed singing (and laughing hysterically) with mum for about 45 minutes in total. It really was beautifully magical.
For that 45 minutes (which felt like hours), mum was back with us. She was our mum once again. She even showed me which finger was the best to pick my nose with, and used some choice lyrics for some of the songs too.
The Visit
The dream ended when another resident started to bang on the door to get in—maybe because he had heard all the fun we had been having…Who knows ? But as soon as mum was distracted, she quickly reverted back to being unsettled and frustrated, and there was no more laughter, no more hand holding, and definitely no further eye contact. It meant saying goodbye to her was extremely difficult, because it was as if we were strangers once again, instead of being her very loved and very cherished children.
During the following days, I have reflected on those moments we shared with mum so much. It was just a normal Saturday afternoon—but to us it was so very special. A day our mum came to visit us again.
Until next time.
#
Hey, there! If you enjoyed reading any of the above, why not take a look at some of my published work? Below you’ll find links to a number of short stories I’m lucky enough to have included in anthologies. I’d love to know what you think.
New Tales Of Old
Death Ship
Pestilence: Drabbles 1
Reaperman: Drabbles 3
The Musketeers Vs Cthulhu
Eldritch Investigations
The one to one carer had now left, so there was just me, my sister, and mum in a room with only a few pictures, a radio, and an emergency call button on the wall. I can't really remember who started singing, but we began to sing a familiar song, and mum slowly began to tap our hands, and even managed to sing some of the words. It's as if music had triggered her memories, as it does for so many. ‘Music speaks, where words fail‘
It was like beautiful magic, watching our old mum reappear. It may have been somewhat briefly, but she was definitely there. Being brought up in the Salvation Army, we sang songs from Sunday school with her, and this was when she really came alive. Her babbling, confused conversation, turned to full sentences of ‘What A Friend We Have In Jesus', and ‘Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine’, she sang with enthusiasm, and a smile that lit up her whole body.
A week previously I had listened to a person talk about a dementia choir he had visited in a residential home (The Memory Action Group). He talked about the moment he first arrived, when people were just sitting around, staring into space, without making any eye contact. Just living in their own little worlds. Then he mentioned the miraculous change that occurred when the music started and they began to sing… That twinkle in their eyes returned, and their weak and frail bodies began to move in time to the beat of the music. For about an hour, they became somewhat as they once were, laughing, living, smiling, and singing. . But as the music stopped, and the singing ceased, they quickly returned to their own worlds, with little eye contact, frail bodies, and useless babble for communication..
I was seeing this same thing happen with mum right in front of my eyes, and we enjoyed singing (and laughing hysterically) with mum for about 45 minutes in total. It really was beautifully magical.
For that 45 minutes (which felt like hours), mum was back with us. She was our mum once again. She even showed me which finger was the best to pick my nose with, and used some choice lyrics for some of the songs too.
The Visit
The dream ended when another resident started to bang on the door to get in—maybe because he had heard all the fun we had been having…Who knows ? But as soon as mum was distracted, she quickly reverted back to being unsettled and frustrated, and there was no more laughter, no more hand holding, and definitely no further eye contact. It meant saying goodbye to her was extremely difficult, because it was as if we were strangers once again, instead of being her very loved and very cherished children.
During the following days, I have reflected on those moments we shared with mum so much. It was just a normal Saturday afternoon—but to us it was so very special. A day our mum came to visit us again.
Until next time.
#
Hey, there! If you enjoyed reading any of the above, why not take a look at some of my published work? Below you’ll find links to a number of short stories I’m lucky enough to have included in anthologies. I’d love to know what you think.
New Tales Of Old
Death Ship
Pestilence: Drabbles 1
Reaperman: Drabbles 3
The Musketeers Vs Cthulhu
Eldritch Investigations
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