A Note About Mom

Betsy Harfst had a birthday today… She is 83. Sadly, her memory only made it to about 75. Betsy is my dear mother. She has Alzheimer’s, and while she remains pleasant to those around her, her memory is an empty box. She actually said that to me today – her memories of childhood, of her first real birthday party, her first bicycle, her first kiss – all are “in a box, put away somewhere…” This saddens me on one level, as she, and so many like her, are residents of care facilities, and having those memories, like a box of cherished photographs to look at, would make the long days seem a bit more tolerable. As it is, time has devolved into a few simple building blocks; there is “before breakfast”, there is “after breakfast”, there is “before lunch”, and, well, you get the picture. These folks have little need for clocks or watches – a sundial would do just fine.

This lack of memory is also a good thing, for some folks. We humans, besides having developed opposable thumbs, have a memory that far surpasses most (all?) other life forms. We have the ability to recall just about everything that we have ever seen, heard, tasted, smelled, thought, dreamed, or experienced in any manner. We can even make incredibly involved plans for the future…  Not sure even dolphins can do that!

This concept of memory needed a measuring tool, so man invented time. It was inevitable, one might assume, given the curiosity inherent in the higher developed mammals. We can’t help but wonder what is over the next hill… But, having a memory that recalls everything? Good AND bad? Is that what we desire?  There seems to be a mechanism in place to help us cope with bad things that happen to us – we “wall off” the event to keep that memory from leaking out and popping up when we are otherwise enjoying a perfectly happy moment. Ask a trauma survivor what they recall from the actual event, and most of the time, they have no recollection – the brain has put that memory in a different place, or perhaps tagged it differently, but that memory is not there to interfere with the the recovery. Alzheimer’s might be like that concept, with a broken valve, so ALL of the memories are locked away, not just the bad ones…

My mother was highly educated, received a doctorate in English literature, and taught at the college level for 20+ years. Yet now, none of these memories are available to her to roll over in her mind, to share with others, or to pass on the grandchildren. Her memory has fallen down, and can’t get up.

So, like the brain that seeks to protect itself from bad memories, we take care of these folks with every ounce of love and dignity that we can. We protect them from the ugliness of everyday living as infirm, aged, and in-the-way. Memory is a gift, yet we take it for granted. And when it is gone, there is little we can do to replace it. If these simple written words cause you to reach out to an elderly relative, neighbor, or friend, and seek to engage them in a little game of “Remember When?”, I can promise that you will be better off for doing so.

Wisdom is there for the taking in “old people”. Most are more than happy to share that wisdom. It’s a good trade – you give them some time, they give you some wisdom… Just remember to do it before either you, or they, forget!

 

Update December 13th, 2011 – Betsy left us today to go join her late husband Ernie. It was very serene – she waited until I got there, said a few words, then closed her eyes for one last time. No more pain and confusion – her spirit has flown, and I am so lucky to have been there. I’ve got to believe that made it easier for her…

Tags: Alzheimer's, memory loss