My Mom

Back in May, I did a post about who my mom is for me, what she taught me, how she influenced the woman I have become and how much I celebrate my mom.

I have noticed that this blog had become about running or running related things. I am running in the NYC Marathon, not because I always wanted to run a marathon - I never did want to. Not because I wanted to become a runner at the age of 55 - I do not want to. Not because I wanted to do something huge - although this is huge.

I am running in the NYC Marathon to raise monies and awareness for Alzheimer's.

People ask me all of the time "How is your mom doing?" I usually answer some version of "She has Alzheimer's - she is getting worse and will continue to get worse. It is a dreadful disease."

My mom is still in the mild stage of the disease, moving quickly into the moderate stage. Here is how that shows up day to day:

- The day after my brother and sister-in-law arrived for a visit, I spoke with my mom on the phone. I asked about their arrival and she told me they did not arrive. I asked when were they going to arrive. She asked my dad and I heard various voices tell her that they were sitting right there.

- My mom has been having trouble swallowing and has had a runny nose and been spitting 'stuff' into a kleenex hourly. I took her to an Ear Nose and Throat doctor. I worked with her to fill out the form that asked about why she was there. When the doctor came into the room, he read her complaints to her and she said - I don't have those problems, who told you that?

- I call each evening to make sure they got their pills. She still asks me when I am coming over. She thinks I am still in Florida. When I tell her I will be back in September, she asks when that is.

- She knows she has 4 children, she knows where they live and what they each do for a living. She knows she has grand-children but does not know she has great-grandchildren. She does not know what month or year it is nor does she know how old she is. She has forgotten our birthdays.

- She can no longer put a meal together. She can still make her own sandwich.

- She wears the same outfit until someone puts it in the laundry but she changes her bra and panties every day. She does not bathe or wash her hair for weeks. When asked, she says she doesn't need to.

- She does not know where dishes or pots or glasses go in her own kitchen. If she knows that the dishwasher needs emptying, she will put things in a cabinet that has room.

- She still knows how to use the credit card machines at Publix but if a machine is different than that one, she asks the clerk to do it.

- She knows who Tiger Woods is, but not that he got caught. Each time she is told, it is like the first time. I have stopped telling her.

- When I call each night, I ask if she got her pills. She always asks my dad if they took their pills.

- She loves each of us and we love her.