Alzheimer’s: Does Mom Know It’s Me?
More and more often these days when I visit Mom I feel she doesn’t know me. It makes me wonder if she ever does really, and if so how much of the time. Is it my wishful thinking when I think she does recognize me?
It’s a little strange that it would be hard to tell. It shows you how sweet she is. She will take my hand and hold it, laugh with me, talk to me a little bit. I just can’t tell if she is holding MY hand and talking to ME or if I could be anyone who was nice to her.
Once in awhile when I walk in and she first seesme I sense an awareness. Once in awhile she seems to smile in relief when she sees me.
Several months ago when I arrived, she reached for my hands and said “Oh good, you belong to me.” It nearly brings me to tears when I think of how precious that was to me. To think she got the words out at the same time as grabbing my hands was a huge blessing.
That may be one of the hardest things about Alzheimer’s. The uncertainty of where they are. Does Mom remember at all at this point? Could she remember an hour of the day? Does she ever miss us when we aren’t there with her?
Even in the early stages, you can wish you were there during the times of clarity. It’s impossible to know how long each will last, let along how long you will get to have them.
It makes me more aware too of how lost a person with Alzheimer’s must feel at times. Every time someone takes your hand the feeling must be settling, an anchor to a soul adrift.