Blessed Revisited

There’s no disputing what an awful and robbing disease Alzheimer’s is. I just watched a moving video of singer Glen Campbell’s daughter testifying before congress about her father’s declining  condition from it. I can’t begin to tell you how many articles I’ve read about how a loved one afflicted with the disease started not recognizing family, friends, etc.

And as I read these very sad accounts, I continually count my blessings that it never happened to mom and us. Up until the end, when she slipped into a coma in hospice, she always knew who I was. When I would walk into her room every morning and greet her with a hello and a kiss, she smiled and tried to speak. And when I would ask her if she wanted some ice chips, she would nod “yes.” Although she hadn’t seen one of my dear friends in nine months, but someone she has known for about 30 years, mom’s eye’s lit up and a big smile came across her face when she visited her in hospice.

Towards the end, mom was sleeping all the time.  But when I greeted her every morning, although her eyes were closed, she moved in her bed as to acknowledge my presence when she heard my voice. The nurses noticed this too.

A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about her, and tears are welling up in my eyes as I write this. But I am abundantly grateful that mom always knew who we were.

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