We are grateful that Mom can still have a satisfactory conversation with us, even though we often need to initiate ideas. If she takes the lead, she tends to prattle on about whatever is in front of her – trees, paintings, objects, random people. She can identify the family and is always delighted to visit with all of her children and grandchildren. We need to prompt her with names sometimes, but once cued, she can remember for the entire visit. She loves to reminisce with pictures and photo albums. She can still recognize and name all of her twenty aunts and uncles, and myriad cousins. She knows her birthdate and that she was born in Baker, Montana. She made several large scrapbooks in high school, and she can recall most schoolmates and events from that time.
But, her brain is dying and many of her memories are gone. Even so, she loves for us to tell her stories about what we remember from our childhoods: stories involving her are her favorite. Mom can’t recall the name of the middle school where she taught, but she remembers she was an art teacher. She doesn’t remember our life in Bloomington, Edina, Connecticut, California, or on Cedar Circle. She doesn’t remember our dad’s illness, nor Killarney, the children’s store they used to own. She doesn’t remember that my brother Dave died a few years ago (and now when she asks about him, we tell her he’ll be over to visit soon). I don’t even think she knows where she lives now. Whenever we visit she says that she “ just got here” and hasn’t had a chance to get organized yet. I once asked her where she’d been, but she had no answer. Now I just agree with her. She loves company and often invites me to spend the night with her. She especially loves to go out to lunch and have a glass of wine. “Get me outta here!” she’ll say. Most importantly of all, she is still enjoying her life.
Reckoning With Alzheimer's 