It’s been a week of rest…after a very stressful week driving to Indiana to bury my mother in law.
When I first met her 12 years ago, she had recently had surgery, and was concerned about some memory loss. She was a nurse, and attributed it to the general anesthesia she had received. It made sense. In all other ways, she was smart, quick as a whip, and full of fun.
We went home to Kentucky for the first four years of our marriage. These are my most cherished memories – this was the house that Mom and Dad built. It was where my husband lived from the time he was 18 months old, until he left home for college.
This was the house where Mom sat on the back porch, watching the birds, relaxing. She was born on a farm, and she loved this farm where she lived for over 40 years. Coming home to me will always be that farm, and that house.
In late 2011, her memory began to falter even more. Now she wasn’t aware of the times she repeated stories. She didn’t know she was forgetting.
Concerned for her safety, the isolated farm was not the safest place to be. With heavy hearts, the farm was sold, and Mom and Dad moved to the suburbs in a small Indiana town. This brought them close to their daughters, but far from country living. They found a home with a back porch facing the open fields, and they made the best of it, joining a church and making suburbia home.
This was a time of great mourning- no more trips to Kentucky, no more touchstone of home. So much of Mom and Dad was in the very soil and brick and mortar of that place.
The first couple of years, Mom and Dad came down to see us around Easter, or Christmas. They drove down in their camper, bringing the dogs with them. Mom loved those dogs, and had always loved camping. Despite her love of travel, the dementia was plaguing her with anxiety. She worried about snow storms and weather events that were not present, but caused her to flee, heading back to the comfort of the small house she now called home.
Year by year, slowly but surely, Mom disappeared a little more.
In 2017 we visited Indiana, and Mom was a shell of herself. She still knew us and welcomed us, but her anxiety was even greater. At night, she mistook her son for her brother.
As we left after that visit, my husband told me he had lost Mom – that the Mom of his childhood was gone. It was true. She was fading, and we couldn’t stop it.
April, 2018 was the deepest descent into dementia – a fall at home, a broken hip, and the admittance into the nursing home.
She was not aware of where she was. Her flashes of recognition of family were few and far between. Her body was strong, but her mind was back in Kentucky, to the home of her youth.
We attempted to see her last year – but my husband got very ill the day after we arrived, and his fever did not abate until the day we were back in our home state.
Her absence was tangible in the suburban house she had made home. Dad was lost without her, but was by her side daily at the nursing home.
After 82 years, married for 62 years, Mom made her final transition 2 weeks ago. She is home in heaven now, and she is fully herself.
We are mourning all over again. Going to Indiana, staying with Dad, our hearts were broken.
Yes, I’m glad she is no longer suffering.
I miss her…the Mom I got to know and love 12 years ago. The Mom who raised her son to be a good man. The Mom who loved all her family – and that included the family her son loved and took as his own.
For eight years, dementia took Mom from us, little by little, until she disappeared.
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