My Mom is having a difficult time adjusting to the loss of my Dad. She has no short-term memory and combined with her dementia, comprehending that he died over a month ago is incomprehensible.
She perseverates on details of the burial planning that are done, on information that is incorrect and it’s clear this change has knocked her down a peg cognitively. We look at her calendar, we discuss what was done and she writes it down, but in an instant, those ideas are lost and she begins again.
As we were sitting and talking through my Mom’s questions, one of the staffers from Assisted Living came in to check on my Mom and remind her it was lunch time. My Mom was not interested in going to lunch so she stands up, walks the lady to the door while asking her a question about the new nameplate that has been ordered for her taking her outside her apartment. She swiftly closes the door on the staffer and returns to restart the discussion with me that we have already had countless times before.
I was impressed at my Mom’s skill in managing to get the woman out of her apartment without being rude. Unfortunately, I will not benefit from any remaining social skills today and am able to sit with my Mom with a smile on my face as she tries to absorb the information that will make her feel more comforted. It was a pleasure to see my Mom again, if even for a few moments. Accepted.