New Year, New Home

For the last four years my mom has lived in the master bedroom at my brother Gregg's house in Lindon. Since her seizure, her Alzheimer's has progressed. There is more muttering in place of real words. She wandered outside into the snow without her shoes on after my brother left for a couple of minutes to take his kids to their mom's house. Luckily, a neighbor found her. She paces and paces and can't hold still and sort of scares the smaller grandkids. She drives everyone crazy by invading their personal space and staring into their face. It is sad but living with a person in her condition has proved harder and harder for my brother and his family.

For her own safety (the wandering was getting out of hand), Mom was moved to a rest home on Monday. I found out she moved right before our flight to Utah on Tuesday. My brother also told me that they had cleaned out her room so we could stay in it. I know he's not being insensitive, just practical, but it still felt really sickening knowing we were coming to his house and we wouldn't be seeing Mom and we would be sleeping in her room. On the ride from the airport to his house, I cried and cried. Whenever I start to feel sad about my mom, I tell myself this sort of stuff happens to everyone at some point and it is just life. But on that ride, I cried and missed my mother. I felt the feelings honestly as if I had been the only one to ever lose a mother to Alzheimer's. After all, it is my first time losing her and it is my mother. When we got to my brother's house, they had cleaned out her room and all her favorite beanie babies, pigs, porcelain dolls, and other various nick knacks that she always loved were piled on the couch. There is sort an unspoken forcefield around the items like they are off limits because they are Mom's. I don't even want to take anything. Maybe my brother will have to haul the stuff off to the DI after I leave. A box of Mom's perfumes sat on the dresser. I took out the bottle of Georgio, the perfume she always wore when I was young, and sprayed it on my wrist. I pressed my nose to my wrist and breathed in my mother's smell and let the tears come. It is so weird to see all her precious things and realize she doesn't even miss them at all anymore.

Yesterday, I took the kids and went with my brother to see Mom in her new home. At first I was very afraid. Even though the rest home recently got four out of five stars on the Medicare website, I didn't know what I would encounter. If any of you have seen Happy Gilmore, you can probably think of what I was worried about.

Once we got there and looked around, I felt much better. They have a beauty salon, spa, and common area where there are activities every few hours. The hallways are decorated really cute with pictures and painted on designs. There is another resident at the home that has early onset Alzheimer's and apparently she and my mom have struck up a friendship. The staff says they follow each other around and hang out all day.

When my mom saw my brother and his kids and me and my kids, she started crying so hard. I cried too. How can you help it when you see your mother living in a rest home for the first time? Mom didn't say my name but you could tell she recognized me. She gave me a big hug. She really recognized Gregg and his kids and was very excited to see them. She didn't seem to know my kids but she gave them hugs and called them, "cute kitties."

Andy gave Mom's bed a try and deemed it comfortable.

Mom and my brother Gregg.

The staff had a New Year's Eve party for the residents in the common area while we were there. The staff said that everyone had to pretend it was 10 to midnight (even though it was 1:30 p.m.). A male staff member made me laugh because he asked one of the older ladies with oxygen tubes coming out of her nose if he could have a kiss at midnight. She agreed and he said, "don't forget." She said excitedly, "I won't." The staff gave out egg nog and ice cream.

The staff at the home seems very nice. They have already taken a liking to my mom since she is of a sweet disposition. She tells everyone she loves them and gives them hugs. There was a strange looking slight old woman that barged into my mom's room. I overheard Mom say to her, "I just love you." I think my mom will enjoy having more people around as she has always been a social person. I think it is hardest on all of her kids and grandkids to watch life wind down for Mom in a forgetful fog.

My mom had a favorite yellow glass two piece lamp where one piece sits on top of the other. There are about 20 little rain drop shape colorful prism chandeliers that dangle off of a lacy gold trim on the top piece. She bought the lamp for her parents and got it back when they died. She was always picking it up in a worried frenzy and moving it to another room when the grandkids came over. Yesterday, I saw it sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree. Andy was running dangerously near. I carefully picked it up. I placed it up on a tall shelf. It is dusty and the prism chandeliers are fogged. After getting home from the rest home, I had this overwhelming desire to gently wipe it down with cleaner and a soft cloth to make it bright and sparkly as if, on that very day, it had been purchased, brand new.