My dearest Holly, oh, how well I know your story. For eleven long years, our family endured the demise of our beautiful, brilliant and loving mother due to Alzheimer's. Only those of us who have plunged through that warped tunnel can truly understand the feelings of helplessness, pain and despair, as we try to navigate those strange, dark waters and envelope our precious parents, or spouses, in a blanket of love and protection. What dementia and Alzheimer's do to a family is devastating beyond belief. It also slowly killed our father, her primary care giver. Mercifully, Mama was released back into the arms of God in 2009. Still, every single second of every single day we have missed and longed for her lovely countenance in our lives. Mother's Day is always spent remembering every joyous dinner we treated her to, every beautiful smile we, her children, put upon her face, and how proud our father STILL was, till his dying day a few years later, to have captured such an angel. Treasure EVERY SINGLE MOMENT you have with your mother, Holly. Those memories will bring a smile to your face and sustain you through the darkest of life's nights. God bless you, and your mama. Sharon
This may be my favorite thing you've ever written, Holly... and I hope you know that's saying a lot. It's so deeply personal... almost confessional... but never embarrassingly so, if you know what I mean. Beautifully written.
And it resonates for me, as it does I'm sure for a lot of folks in our age group. Many of us have dealt with (or will), a parent, grandparent, or other relative going through similar things. It requires grace, as well as a loving desire to give them the very best lives we can. I love the way you put it: even if we can't give them new, happy memories, we can give them happy moments.
It reminds me of a Zen precept I try to steer by, because when I do it eases my passage... "No past. No future. There is only Now." Enjoy those happy moments.
Thank you so much for sharing this, Holly. Your mom's artwork is incredible, and I so deeply appreciate your ability to write about things that are both difficult and beautiful in ways that honor both the pain and the meaning you experience. I'm really glad that you and Katrina take her out -- I think we would benefit a lot as a culture from seeing more of our elders in the everyday world, even if (especially if?) they are not behaving in "expected" ways, instead of being hidden away like something shameful.
Nicely written Holly. Ruth shared something with me many years ago at a dinner at your home that my Mom had shared with her - it meant a lot to me. And to know that my Mom enjoyed yours to talk about family together. I've wondered what else Ruth could have shared to know a bit more about Mom and to bring back memories of her.
Your piece made me smile, tear up, and smile some more. Thank you. And I'm sure neither of you would have told her to 'you shut up' before now knowing her! LOL!
Enjoy the moments! Tell Katrina Hi for me. Be well
Thank you for writing and sharing this. I've been watching my ex deteriorate from the wry MD I fell in love with to the angry lump dementia has made of him, but your words have reminded me that there is at least an undercurrent of humor to be found somewhere in this all-too-human tragedy-- and that what he's created and contributed will remain as consolation for what's been lost.
Thank you for sharing, Holly. Like Jim Collin said, when I read your piece, it was "smile, tear up, repeat". Like so many others here, I cared for my father as he deterioated over a five year period from the hard working family provider to a stage where every one of his life functions required assistance from others. Eventually, his brain was taken completely by Alzheimers and he passed quietly from this world. But, there were the good (and yes, funny) moments as he (and we) went through the stages. At one point, he didn't recognize me as his son any more but, because I kept visiting him all the time, he started calling me "Buddy", a term he only ever used for his long time Navy "buddies".
Since then, I have journaled quite a bit about him; about how he was there to land a big northern pike when I was just 8 years old, coaching me all the while but letting me experience the thrill of "pulling in the big one". He was there when I bagged my first duck, a blue-winged teal, when I was 12. These and the other "memory nuggets" became all that more valuable as he moved through the last stages of his life. And now, that he is gone, there is no "present" or "future" with him but there are the special memories of the past. So, enjoy all of those moments now, in the present, make good memories (as you wrote about) because all I have of my father now are those memories. And, they make me smile; again.
Great post! My father died with complications from Alzheimers, compounded by Covid in his last few days, Mom is also in early-mid stage dementia, confounded by a head injury (MVA with a drunk driver) about 20 years ago. I recognize most everything you note here.
Such a beautiful piece, Holly, thank you for sharing it. Interesting time being the children of aging adults, we’re moving mom into the Eskaton lodge on Friday. Then: We’re next!
Many blessings to you and Katrina, Holly. I worked with your Mom many years ago and we had such fun!
My mom and older brother are gone after suffering with dementia for years. My middle brother is currently dealing with late stage of dementia so I fully understand your situation.
Always such an inspiration, Holly. Thank you so much for continuing to write and share your authentic life experiences. We need more of this these days 💗.
What beautiful art, sounds like she lived life well while she could…what more can one hope for?
Great writing on such a sensitive and difficult topic. Nicely done!
My dearest Holly, oh, how well I know your story. For eleven long years, our family endured the demise of our beautiful, brilliant and loving mother due to Alzheimer's. Only those of us who have plunged through that warped tunnel can truly understand the feelings of helplessness, pain and despair, as we try to navigate those strange, dark waters and envelope our precious parents, or spouses, in a blanket of love and protection. What dementia and Alzheimer's do to a family is devastating beyond belief. It also slowly killed our father, her primary care giver. Mercifully, Mama was released back into the arms of God in 2009. Still, every single second of every single day we have missed and longed for her lovely countenance in our lives. Mother's Day is always spent remembering every joyous dinner we treated her to, every beautiful smile we, her children, put upon her face, and how proud our father STILL was, till his dying day a few years later, to have captured such an angel. Treasure EVERY SINGLE MOMENT you have with your mother, Holly. Those memories will bring a smile to your face and sustain you through the darkest of life's nights. God bless you, and your mama. Sharon
This may be my favorite thing you've ever written, Holly... and I hope you know that's saying a lot. It's so deeply personal... almost confessional... but never embarrassingly so, if you know what I mean. Beautifully written.
And it resonates for me, as it does I'm sure for a lot of folks in our age group. Many of us have dealt with (or will), a parent, grandparent, or other relative going through similar things. It requires grace, as well as a loving desire to give them the very best lives we can. I love the way you put it: even if we can't give them new, happy memories, we can give them happy moments.
It reminds me of a Zen precept I try to steer by, because when I do it eases my passage... "No past. No future. There is only Now." Enjoy those happy moments.
Thanks for sharing this in a way that reminds me of the scope of life and love.
Thank you so much for sharing this, Holly. Your mom's artwork is incredible, and I so deeply appreciate your ability to write about things that are both difficult and beautiful in ways that honor both the pain and the meaning you experience. I'm really glad that you and Katrina take her out -- I think we would benefit a lot as a culture from seeing more of our elders in the everyday world, even if (especially if?) they are not behaving in "expected" ways, instead of being hidden away like something shameful.
Very touching, and told with compassion and understanding. Your Mom did a wonderful job of mothering to implant those virtues in her daughters.
Nicely written Holly. Ruth shared something with me many years ago at a dinner at your home that my Mom had shared with her - it meant a lot to me. And to know that my Mom enjoyed yours to talk about family together. I've wondered what else Ruth could have shared to know a bit more about Mom and to bring back memories of her.
Your piece made me smile, tear up, and smile some more. Thank you. And I'm sure neither of you would have told her to 'you shut up' before now knowing her! LOL!
Enjoy the moments! Tell Katrina Hi for me. Be well
Thank you for writing and sharing this. I've been watching my ex deteriorate from the wry MD I fell in love with to the angry lump dementia has made of him, but your words have reminded me that there is at least an undercurrent of humor to be found somewhere in this all-too-human tragedy-- and that what he's created and contributed will remain as consolation for what's been lost.
Thank you for sharing, Holly. Like Jim Collin said, when I read your piece, it was "smile, tear up, repeat". Like so many others here, I cared for my father as he deterioated over a five year period from the hard working family provider to a stage where every one of his life functions required assistance from others. Eventually, his brain was taken completely by Alzheimers and he passed quietly from this world. But, there were the good (and yes, funny) moments as he (and we) went through the stages. At one point, he didn't recognize me as his son any more but, because I kept visiting him all the time, he started calling me "Buddy", a term he only ever used for his long time Navy "buddies".
Since then, I have journaled quite a bit about him; about how he was there to land a big northern pike when I was just 8 years old, coaching me all the while but letting me experience the thrill of "pulling in the big one". He was there when I bagged my first duck, a blue-winged teal, when I was 12. These and the other "memory nuggets" became all that more valuable as he moved through the last stages of his life. And now, that he is gone, there is no "present" or "future" with him but there are the special memories of the past. So, enjoy all of those moments now, in the present, make good memories (as you wrote about) because all I have of my father now are those memories. And, they make me smile; again.
Great post! My father died with complications from Alzheimers, compounded by Covid in his last few days, Mom is also in early-mid stage dementia, confounded by a head injury (MVA with a drunk driver) about 20 years ago. I recognize most everything you note here.
Thank you for sharing with us. I completely understand.
Holly, you have a true gift for words and I am so glad you take the time to share your stories. I was already crying at the halfway point. Well done.
Such a beautiful piece, Holly, thank you for sharing it. Interesting time being the children of aging adults, we’re moving mom into the Eskaton lodge on Friday. Then: We’re next!
Many blessings to you and Katrina, Holly. I worked with your Mom many years ago and we had such fun!
My mom and older brother are gone after suffering with dementia for years. My middle brother is currently dealing with late stage of dementia so I fully understand your situation.
Give Mom an extra hug from me.
Chris Dreyer
Always such an inspiration, Holly. Thank you so much for continuing to write and share your authentic life experiences. We need more of this these days 💗.