Let me start this post by saying . . . if you have been following ArgonOne for a while, you know that I used to actually blog here. Not just a photo and move on, I used to tell you my thoughts for the day. Then life got busy and I stopped posting so much. My favorite time online was the early days of ArgonOne. Well I'm ready to get back to writing. Probably not a daily post, but regular posts at least. I hope you will follow along.
My mother, bless her heart, is 96 years old. She has advanced dementia. On a good day she can remember my sister's name for a while. My oldest sister takes care of her full time. It's a task taking care of my mother. She is quiet and fragile [about 70 pounds]. She gets up in the middle of the night, quiet as a mouse, to go to the bathroom. Sometimes she forgets where the bathroom is, or why she got up in the first place. My sister sleeps lightly. By the time my mother's little feet hit the floor, my sister is there to make sure she doesn't fall and to help her if she gets confused.
I love my mother. She's my hero. I don't get to see her nearly enough. I live 10 hours away. Last weekend my daughters [along with their fellows] and I drove to visit her. On the first day she knew me! She knew my daughters [her granddaughters]! I could tell she really knew us because she was smiling so big. Even here eyes were smiling. She gave us great big hugs and told us how great it was to see us. On the second day she didn't know anyone. She had a far-away look in her eyes when we went in to visit and we knew she didn't have a clue who we were.
It was good to be with my mother, even when she could not remember me. She seems content and happy. She doesn't have a care in the world. She eats well. She sleeps well. When this whole dementia thing started about five years ago, she lost her short-term memory. She would worry about everything. She worried about losing her purse, even though it would be sitting right beside her. She worried about when she was going to have dinner, even though she had eaten only 10 minutes earlier. It was frightening sad to see her going through so much mental anguish. I wish we had our pre-dementia mother back, but we don't. We never will. Even though she may not know me, I know her. I love her. I miss her. I pray for her every day . . . many times every day. I don't know how long God will allow us to have her with us, but she has been an awesome mother. Strong. Loving. Faithful. Wise. Caring. Our rock. Our fortress. My hero.
I love you mom!