At least your dad calls you son. I am pretty mad at my mom’s doctor. He hasn’t told us that she has Alzheimer’s yet, only dementia, but my mom does not know that I am her daughter anymore. It is really hard to realize your own mom doesn’t recognize you, and has no idea of who you are or how you have a connection. None. Pray for me, FReepers. I am devastated sometimes by this realization. Other times I regain composure. I am the first of her six children that she doesn’t recognize (fifth in birth order). I’m sure she will forget the rest soon, but I am the first to deal with the loss in this fashion.
My m-i-l had dementia as well and while she did not reach that stage at the time she passed, which is almost a year ago, we could see it coming.
It’s brutal watching someone deteriorate that way.
With all due respect and compassion to those who have to endure that, I have been praying that God would spare me that end, that He’d take me quickly some other way.
Don’t take any of it personally. She doesn’t know what she is doing and in her more lucid moments, hates what is happening to her, too.
Take the good moments as they come and rejoice in those and take the rest as it comes and know that you are NOT alone in this kind of situation.
God bless you.
Understand that dementia is not always caused by Alzheimer’s. In my late mother’s case it was caused by a series of mini-strokes. Even after she had reached the point of not recognizing us, she could still carry on the type of conversation you might have with someone you had just met. Any stranger passing by would not have realized that her mind was failing.
The first time she asked me, “Now where does your family live?” I was a little taken aback. When she would ask similar questions, I often debated in my mind if it was better to tell her who she was and how we were related — which is what I did — or if it would have been more helpful for her if I had made something up. She always seemed so confused by my answers.
Two of my siblings really took it hard when she did not know who they were, but I came to accept it. I just came to the point of treating her as if she were a child, which is what my very bright, well-read, proud mother had become. Knowing that she was not aware of her loss was a comfort to me.
Two of my sisters and I rotated care of her at her home, and, over the course of those 2 years, I tried to treat her with the same sweet care and kindness she had given to all of her 9 children and to her grandchildren. I came to be thankful for the opportunity to take care of my dear mother as she had once cared for me. Fortunately, she remained very sweet and co-operative throughout all of it.
Prayers for you and your mother.