My Mother's Story
By Joe Ceci, Calgary Alderman
In March of last year, my father died. Up to that point, my parents had been married for just over 62 years. Though my mother, Carrie, and Lou, my dad, had been living with her disease for about 6 years, dad's death opened up a hole in her world that made the symptoms much worse and definitely more noticeable to all of us. He was her center and his death left her ungrounded.
Because my mom has very little short-term memory, watching her continually re-experience her grief every time she asked and was told where dad was during those first weeks was indescribably sad. It seemed that no amount of explanation, repetition or demonstration could make this event part of her consciousness; even now all that she knows is that he is not there and he should be.
At first she cried a lot but then started to get angry and frustrated, remaining convinced that he was just around the corner at the shopping plaza, just across the street or out in the backyard - and that she should be allowed to go and bring him home. In many ways it's like he is still alive for her and I think we, myself and my siblings, have finally come to accept that it is not critical for her to know that he has died. Her memories of her early life are good ones and are a source of comfort for all of us.
My mom still lives in the house my father built, cared for by a personal caregiver, Noemi, wihout whom she would be unable to cope. Dad's Veteran's benefits extended to mom on a gradually decreasing basis finance this arrangement, allowing her to carry on living in the place she feels most at home. My siblings, two sisters and a brother, also live in Toronto, and provide daily support in the form of shopping, health management, emotional care and myriad other essential actions big and small. I am so appreciative of their presence in our mother's life.
Although I live at a distance from my mother's daily experience of living with Alzheimer's, I still try to support her as best I can. I send photos, letters and newspaper clippings about my work - things that she can look at and show people. It is difficult though, as phone calls are forgotten almost before they are over, and the time between visits can seem too long.
We Love You, Grandma!
My daughter , Hailey, was born in January, 2007. In March of that same year I went to visit my family in Saskatoon to introduce Hailey to the family members who had not yet met her.
My Grandma, who is 94 years old, lives in North Battleford, Saskatchewan in a long term care centre. She was diagnosed in 1998 at the age of 84 with Alzheimer's disease. My Mom, Hailey and I made the one hour drive from Saskatoon so that Grandma could meet my beautiful little baby. Grandma was happy to see us; she knew we were familiar and responded to us with big smiles. She may not know my name, but she knows that I love her.
We visited for a while, and Grandma was smitten with Hailey (but who isn't?). She was so proud of Hailey that she told my Mom and me that she thought we should all go visit her Grandmother. Of course we know that her Grandmother had passed away many years ago, but my Mom and I smiled and agreed that visiting her Grandmother would be lovely.
This is one of my favourite memories of my Grandmother, included in my memories of her and Grandpa taking us fishing, her baking me chocolate hamburgers, and now, meeting my daughter. Before her diagnosis and in the early stages of the disease process, Grandma would tease me often that she wanted to meet my children so I had better hurry up and have some kids! I am so grateful that Grandma could meet Hailey, for the time we have spent together, and for the times to come.
We love you, Grandma!
Peter Maher Shares His Memory
Standing prominently among the Calgary Flames Stanley Cup championship and Hockey Hall-of-Fame pictures in my office is a photo of my mother smiling as she held my first grandchild, Haylee. That snapshot has more significance to me than the larger, triumphant hockey photos surrounding it.
Haylee was only eight months old at the time. My Mom was four months away from losing her battle with Alzheimer's disease. My father often reflected "That one time your mother held Haylee is the last time she smiled."
Haylee, obviously, has no recollection of that afternoon, but I've often shown her the picture and explained the importance of it to me.
Haylee is now six years old, but I don't think she fully understands the impact of her first visit to our hometown in New Brunswick. As she gets older, I'm sure she will, and then her participation in the Thanksgiving Memory Walk and Run will have more meaning to her.
In the latter months of Mom's struggle with the disease, she wouldn't even smile when family members would say something funny in her presence. She'd stare with a frustrated look, wondering why those around her were having fun.
But that summer in 2002, as she held her 12th of 16 grandchildren, she broke from her sullen look and smiled.
For Dad and us kids, it was more than a smile. It gave us knowledge that, at least for a few moments, she was happy and aware.
That picture is another reminder of how loving and caring she was when her health wasn't an issue.
Peter Maher, Voice of the Calgary Flames, is the Honourary Chair of the Investors Group Thanksgiving Walk and Run.