Family Celebrations Are Over… For Mom

On Sunday we had a birthday party to celebrate Mom’s 95^th – which she officially turned today.  It was bittersweet because the doctor has suggested we curtail her involvement in these family gatherings now because they are too hard on her.  I remember the trauma Daddy suffered the last couple of holidays before he moved into the nursing home.  It was so sad that he could no longer enjoy his family.

In this stage of her dementia, I find it is better to wait to tell her what is happening so no mention was made until an hour before.  I mentioned it then because I wanted to wash her hair so it would be fresh for her party.  She was happy to hear that her family was coming to celebrate, less happy that she had to have her hair washed, and expressed disgust when I told her she was turning 95 on Tuesday.  I’m not sure if she was upset about the 95 (she often says she is 102 or 104) or the Tuesday.  J  She went along with me though and I washed her hair without incident. 

Whenever I have to tell her something that will rock her world, I know that she will be in the bathroom multiple times and she was in there 5 or 6 times in the following 45 minutes and then multiple times during the party.  The thought, or possibly the inability to actually get her mind around the thought, sends her intestines into an uproar.

As the family arrived, Mom smiled and told them she couldn’t remember them, pointing to her brain.  It’s a busy time of year but almost half of her 70+ descendents attended and everywhere she turned, she found family.  She soaked up the hugs and kisses!

As time passed, I watched as she moved around the house, obviously disturbed by things being out of place and so many people around that she couldn’t remember.  She sat down and ate her meal amidst the commotion and handled it well but after eating, she went out and sat down by my brother.  I’m pretty sure she needed to feel safe and he provided that comfort whether he realized it or not.

Only term missing was "Big Meemaw" as Hurricane calls her.  :)

After dinner and birthday cake, Mom started her typical harrumphing at me.  It’s a pointed stare with a clearing of her throat that indicates she is ready to move on, or in this case, get everybody out and things back to normal.  I ignored it, pretending I didn’t notice and eventually everyone headed home and we were able to get the house back to normal. 

“Normal” is key to taking care of someone with Alzheimer’s/dementia.  They like routine and they do not handle clutter well, nor do they like things out of place.  Having a house full of people and the kitchen a mess was definitely NOT “normal”. 

With the house back to normal, Mom was finally able to settle into regular routine.  As I hugged her goodnight at 9:00 pm, I assured her it would be just “us two tomorrow”.  Her response was an emphatic, “Good!”