I remember being a child and visiting my grandparents' house on Christmas. A rather tiny family of 12 crammed into an even tinier home. Mawmaw would yell in astonishment when she saw me walk through the door because of how much I had grown although she'd likely seen me days earlier. Mom would sneak over and turn the AC up because the house was roasting hot. We'd pull extra chairs around the dining room table and say a prayer, though guiltily focused on the delicious holiday dishes surrounding us. Later, the children would open their mountains of gifts carefully selected by MawMaw and PawPaw from the Toys-R-Us magazine months earlier. The hours ticked by, and I ended my day cuddled next to my mom with MawMaw tickling my leg with her long, painted fingernails.
Each sense from those days remains with me -- the smell of the home, the touch of my MawMaw's nails, the taste of the food, the [incredible] sight of the gifts, and the sound of the family's chatter. I remember it all.
I took those moments for granted. My PawPaw is now flying high with The Lord, and MawMaw lives in a nursing home. She has a roommate. This roommate is upsetting, annoying, and frankly, we all wish she would go away. Her name is Alzheimer's disease. I cling to the memories mentioned above because I know those days are over.
Alzheimer's is like a mask glued to someone's face. It conceals the person they once were, changes them into someone they are not - but underneath that mask is the same individual we have always known. But the difficult part is that the mask is not coming off. Until a cure is found, the mask remains.
It is heart-wrenching to watch someone you love slip away day by day and forget who they are, where they live, or even who you are. However, you must let them. Arguing with an Alzheimer's patient agitates them and upsets you. Being impatient with them is unfair. And abandoning them -- well, that is unacceptable. Alzheimer's patients have every single right you and I do; they are simply living in a different world than us now. They have slipped out of what we understand as our reality and entered their own reality.
If their reality makes them happy, let it. It is selfish to push your beliefs on a person whose disease inhibits them from understanding our world. Be patient and be kind.
My Mawmaw, a woman formerly beyond slow to anger, is now easily agitated and even combative at times. She no longer sits at the piano to showcase her talent. She does not say my name... I don't know if she remembers it. And she no longer tickles my leg.
She is in a different world.
I believe, though, that she is content. The woman I knew is in there, but I know she is not coming back. Her roommate will live with her until she decides to move to Heaven. And that's okay.
Until we find a cure, we have to live with Alzheimer's. We have to adapt to the disease's evil ways -- we must be as patient, kind, and loving to our loved ones as we can be.
Remember: Alzheimer's is only a mask. Do not let someone slip from your grasp because of a disease. Cherish your memories and shower your people with love.
