Tender Moments

Today I silently stood in my dining room, unnoticed, while observing my sweet nine-year old daughter read a book to her grandma. Anna read the little board book with all the tenderness, patience and expression that one would use with a toddler. She pointed to the pictures and counted the animals. Then she placed the book gently on my mother's lap and took her hand, patted it and gently said, "I love you. Do you know that?" She smiled and kissed her hand then my sweet little girl started to stroke my mom's head and tell her how beautiful she is. I could not ask for a sweeter manifestation of love and tenderness, and it was all done in what Anna believed to be utter anonymity. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I watched the tender exchange between my daughter and my mother. Love freely given--all Anna received in exchange was an occasional smile. When I talked to her about the interaction later, she shyly smiled and replied, "That's what grandma used to do to me."

I have tried to look for the good that can come in this difficult situation and there have been quite a few good things emerge. One of my hopes has been that my children will come out of this experience better people. It hasn't always been easy on them. I have missed events and out of town trips with them because I had to stay home and care for my mom. They have helped me move her and feed her. They have waited as I changed her and dressed her. They have watched her thrash in seizures. They have felt the loss of their grandmother, and they have watched her change into a vacant person. But I believe they are learning patience and compassion. I hope they are learning the joy of service. 

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Today was a moment that I do not want to forget.  I was so pleased with my daughter who has come a long way from the day when she confessed to me that the changes in Grandma scared her. We talked later that day about some of the things she remembers about my mom from before the dementia. Anna reminisced about "grandma play dates" and the pajamas that my mom sewed for her. It is a struggle sometimes to keep the memories alive when the present shadows the past. I'm grateful that my kids have a few memories still of how my mom used to be.