visiting the land of dementia

Last Sunday, I went to the special ice cream social at the nursing home with Mom and Dad for Mother’s Day. I forgot my camera. I’m not sure I could have gotten anything worth posting since Mom was pretty much asleep and slumped down and Dad was in a pissy mood. He pushed his ice cream away – he didn’t want that – and wouldn’t talk. It was a long afternoon. Dad eventually came around and started eating the nuts and marshmallows off his ice cream with his fingers – and finally picked up his spoon and ate his ice cream. His CNA tells me he’s just like this, grumpy some days; friendly others.

I got over there again yesterday. Mom as awake and alert and I met her new roommate. Nora says that they sing to Mom and she sometimes responds to her. I noticed on Mother’s Day that she enjoyed the church group that came in to sing, swaying a bit with the music. I need to ask them to be sure to bring her out for singing groups. I’m not sure if they do or not.

It’s funny, I swear she was smiling but none of the photos I took really show a smile.

mom may 2014

Dad was in a better mood today, although he says that he’s ready to leave there. I imagine he is, it must be boring. But he also was pretty fixated on Pop’s death (in 1974 actually) and how his mother was adjusting to it. It was pretty confusing as he refers to both his mother and mine as Mom. He doesn’t seem to know that Mom is in the nursing home but then, part of the time he was talking about his mom. He says he’s going to retire soon and he’s not sure he wants to live in Shell Knob since there’s not much to do there.

dad may 2014

They pin the cards my brother sends him to the wall and took apart the photo book I made him with his pets and have put them on the wall. Today he was worried that he needs to take them down since he’ll be leaving soon. It’s sad to see how far he’s deteriorated. He doesn’t have his door guard up at the moment and the hall is pretty empty, so at least he still doesn’t have to share a room.

dads room may 2014

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “visiting the land of dementia”

  1. I appreciate how difficult it must be for you to see your parents like this, yet your post makes sense of the situation. I know that many people have not experienced the realities of parental decline, so I admire you for sharing your observations and photos. Knowing what is to come may be heart-breaking, but helpful at the same time. Hang in there, Zazzy.

    Like

    1. The hard thing right now is that I’ve already watched Mom go down this path and Dad is following along step by step. The timeline is a little different but I remember the many months when she was obsessed with whether her parents were mad at her and how they were doing. At least I have practice answering those questions.

      Like

  2. Muddling through and taking one day/step at a time is all we can do. It’s horrible that it’s happening to them, but it’s equally terrible for you to have to watch and deal with it. 😦

    Like

    1. It’s sad for me, sucks for them. I looked back at this post earlier and in many ways, it’s so cold. I think part of surviving this is separating as much as I can from my sadness. Well, except when Dad told me how fat I was. I guess he may never stop doing that.

      Like

Comments are closed.