Visiting Mom

Mom is always glad to see me when I visit, and her eyes light up in recognition when I enter main room.  I announce myself, and she rolls her eyes and says, “I know who you are Karen.” Sometimes she confuses my name with my other sisters, but she always remembers I am her daughter.

Mom’s cognition has declined gradually and she has been stable in stage six for well over a year. She knows me, but she’s never sure of where she is or where she lives. When leaving the dining room she can’t locate her room which is down the hall. At some point during each visit, she will lean towards me and whisper conspiratorially, “Where are we?” I usually tell her that we’re at her apartment, which gives her pause. Then she asks if I want to stay for dinner, which her mother might cook. I always say yes, which pleases her and closes the loop.

Mom can’t really carry on a conversation anymore; she is losing vocabulary and attention span. She can ask and answer simple questions, but when she tries to elaborate, she often trails off mid sentence or just smiles helplessly.  It doesn’t help that she doesn’t have hearing aids anymore – the last pair disappeared for good sometime in the last year. It seems like she gets better at communicating the longer we’re together, but visits can be challenging and boring. Sometimes she’ll wander off in her wheelchair while I’m talking, or fall asleep when we’re watching tv. 

She’s not interested in reminiscing or looking through old photo albums anymore. She does enjoy a few Shutterfly albums with large color photos and labels she can read aloud.  Mom loves to read aloud. She also enjoys watching cartoons with closed captions (which she reads aloud), and coloring, or painting.  I try to do one of these activities when I visit.

She and six or seven “regulars” usually congregate around the main dining room table most of the day, everyday.  Rarely do they have much to say to each other, but they all seem to enjoy each other’s company and watching the bustle of people coming and going. They usually greet me with a cheerful smile or a wave (unless they’re asleep at the table). I used to worry about the lack of activities provided for the residents, but whenever I visit, Mom and her cohorts seem content sitting peacefully together. And sometimes they work on puzzles with aides, or watch musicals, or play bingo. I am grateful that mom feels comfortable in her community, even if she doesn’t know exactly where she is. When it’s time for me to leave, I wheel Mom up to the table and tell her I’ll be back soon. She smiles and nods her head. Then she and the others tell me goodbye with cheerful smiles or a wave.