Last week I wrote about my dad, but he wasn’t my first or my last ride on the Alzheimer’s roller coaster. I was around 16 when my grandma Bonnie (my dad’s mom) developed the symptoms. She had moved into a little house in my hometown, and I would sometimes go over after school to check on her. She always had cookies and Pepsi on hand, so it was mutually beneficial. We would take her to church with us and as the clock neared 12 noon, she would point to her watch and say loudly, Mike, it’s been an hour, is he about done preaching? My parents were mortified, I personally thought it was hysterical. I only wish I had had the guts to ask the same thing! This wasn’t necessarily a symptom of the disease, but it was a new quirk for her. She was a quiet lady, not one to get too riled up. As her condition got worse, she would wander around town and my dad often got phone calls when she had been sighted, and he would have to leave work and go pick her up. Luckily it was a small town where people knew their neighbors and looked after each other. My most vivid memory of this time was a story she apparently had on repeat in her brain and liked to recall it every time we had dinner together. It got to the point where we could all recite it from memory. Sometimes we heard it multiple times during one meal. It was all we could do not to burst into laughter. As she declined, she eventually went to live with my aunt, a retired nurse, where she could get more round-the-clock care. Grandma Bonnie passed away on Mother’s Day 1991, I remember thinking losing your mom on mother’s day just didn’t seem fair, it made it more sad in my mind.
Then it was my Aunt Shirley’s turn. My sister and I used to go to visit my aunt several times a year, these were some of our favorite times together, shopping and laughing and learning our family history. When daddy got sick, I had promised aunt Shirley that I would take care of him. She had trouble with her baby brother succumbing to this horrible disease. She had firsthand experience of what it could do to a person. It was hard for her to watch. Suddenly she was alone, her son and husband had passed years before and now her brother. About 6 years after my dad passed away, we were visiting her, and she was acting a little kooky. She had turned off her cable because it was all trash. She had become a little grumpy. She had always been outspoken and strong willed, but she was getting next level, not even trying to temper her thoughts. A few months later we received a call from her preacher, she had missed church, and they went to check on her, missing church wasn’t an option for Shirley, it was part of her. She had played the piano every Sunday at that little church for decades. She apparently hadn’t been eating; it looked like she had fallen down and when they tried to help her she became combative. They were pretty sure that she had been on the floor for a few days. They called me, I called Kimberly, we arrived the next day knowing full well the path that was ahead of us. Luckly or unluckily we knew what to do. We consulted her church family since they knew the area and they guided us to an assisted living facility that was top notch. She became obsessed with Frank Lloyd Wright; she kept telling Paul that all his buildings leak in the corners. There was an old run-down house we had to drive by and she tried to convince us it was his design. These are the things that can make you laugh a little even in the middle of a sad situation. We got her moved and settled in, that was in January 2021and by March she was gone. I’m pretty sure she just quit. She told us more than once that she was done with this life and that it was time to go be with her family. Every time I called to check on her I heard the same report. She wasn’t eating, they’d say things like, “Shirley aren’t you hungry” to which she promptly replied, “do I look hungry?” She was always a feisty lady so when she made up her mind it was done.
Maybe, this should concern me a little. This disease that runs in my family, and statistically affects more women than men, should keep me up at night. But I believe a cure is out there, I have to believe that. The alternative is not an option. I don’t want my children or my grand children to face this disease, my hope is that research is progressing and that there is a future where Alzheimer’s does not exist. I’m not sure I will see it in my lifetime but I think it is coming. So, I choose hope, I try to make healthy choices, I enjoy the moments and the people in my life right now and try not to take any of it for granted.
