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Alzheimers Stories

This is a place for you to share your stories - anonymously if you like- with others.  It's a place to share the triumphs and not-so-triumphant moments we all face in trying to support loved ones.

For example, I remember the last time I visited my grandmother.  

Before I can tell you about that, I should tell you a small bit about this woman who was born before her time.  1900 was her birth year and she managed to fall in love with a wounded veteran of the British army who left part of his shoulder at Gallipoli in the first world war.  The pictures of this time show her as a serious woman  as was the case of those early family pictures- very attractive - but with a twinkle in her eye.  Anybody who knew her knew that her spirit was not one of being laid back but a take-charge, energy that infused her surroundings.  She was the neighborhood wise-woman (I was told this in confidence by one of her frieds) who all the neighborhood women turned to for advice and help.  

Unfortunately, she couldn't help herself when it came to saving her children, losing several in the process of childbirth.  When her 9-year old died of blood poisoning (before penecillin) my grandparents decided to move to either Canada or Austrailia.  The Canadian papers arrived first and my grandfather (a genius with machines) left for Canada and a job in the middle of the depression.  He brought the family over as soon as possible and my grandmother left her native Scotland for the last time in the early 30's.

Fast forward to the Second World War.   Because my grandfther couldn't enlist, grandma did.  This bright-eyed Scottish lass (measuring 4'11" (and three quarters) managed to get herself into the army and rise to the rank of Company Sargeant Major (and acting Regimental Sargeant Major) within a few short years.  Sent from camp to camp, she specialized in bringing order to training the female officer corps.

When I knew her, my grandmother’s army days were long gone and I got to know this woman who spoiled all her grandchildren terribly (we loved her for it) while at the same time running the house with a glint in her eye.  There was no problem identifying who was in charge in the house - the answer was plain.  My grandmother ran things with the same efficiency as she did in the army.  Except for when she melted into my quiet grandfather’s arms for regular dances around the kitchen, he did the leading.

Hogmanay - the Scottish New Year saw the love of life3 in her eyes fully exposed as she danced and whirled with the best of them for as long as the music would hold out.  A regular party-animal, (but not a drinker) she loved people and having them around.

A heavy smoker all her life, she ran into a series of heart attacks and strokes that slowly sucked her energy down.  The glint in her eye was still there and when I was to get married, she gave me the money for a new bed because, “a good marriage starts on a good bed”.

My grandmother moved into a progressive retirement complex and slowly moved up the level of care until she had to move to a full nursing home.  She was no longer in charge of her own memories or her own care.

I had visited her weekly when I was doing graduate work in the city and mostly monthly when we moved several hundred miles away.  The last time I saw her was luckily for both of us, one of the times she was at her most lucid - having a good day.  She turned to me and told me very plainly that she didn’t want me coming back to see her.  She didn’t want me remembering her in this place but wanted me to remember her dancing and singing (she could play the piano by hearing a piece) and the good times.  She didn’t want me remembering her as an old sick lady.  There was the old steel in her eye and a soft plea in her voice.  I promised.

And writing that brings tears to my eyes.  Even as any number of the auld country songs I hear now and again that she used to play.  I can remember her spoiling us - taking us to the beach, playing the piano, singing and dancing and laughing, I can remember the sprinkler hose in the backyard  that the cousins all ran through and the laughing moment when I grew taller than she was and could look down on her.  I remember her pride as I became the first of our family to get a university degree and how she laughed at having a great-granddaughter named after her.

I remember all that and more.  I still remember our last day and some of those other moments but for the most part, my grandmother got her wish.  I remember the good stuff, the good moments. The things she wanted to be remembered.

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My Grandma died in 2007 from Alzheimer's.   My Grandma died in 2007 from Alzheimer's. We kept her home with us instead of putting her in a nursing home. We are lucky enough to have a large family ...




 

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