Who ellensmothermary became

Who would ever have imagined that the little girl who came into this world "roaring like a lion" would leave it "meek as a lamb"?How can I put into words just what Alzheimer's did to my mother? There are simply no words that could ever describe the utter devastating effect that it had on her mind and her spirit. A once very independent woman became totally dependent upon the care of others....and it made her feel very ashamed.

Shortly after that fateful early morning in 2001 when she burst into my room asking me to help her because she had forgotten how to get back into bed, she began to rapidly lose her ability to do so many things.

The very worst thing for us was that she totally forgot how to use the bathroom. She one day had no clue as to how she was supposed to urinate or defecate, and for some unknown reason, the toilet now terrified her! "Show me how," had now become her favorite phrase. How do you explain to your 78 year old mother with Alzheimer's how to go to the potty?? You cannot potty train someone with dementia the same way that you can train a toddler. Mom just never quite understood the concept ever again. This now made something as simple as having to go to the bathroom something that we both came to fear and dread.

I had to also try and reassure her that there was no good or bad way to get into and out of her bed. Something terrible was not going to happen to her if she chose the wrong way.

Mom even became terrified of bed sheets that were anything but plain. She would beg me to come and get the monsters off her bed and I had no clue as to what she meant. It took me awhile to realize that the festive snowmen that decorated her nice flannel sheets had now become monsters to her.

The same thing happened to her when she looked at clothing. Certain patterns suddenly took on the shape of demons and she could become panic stricken merely by looking at what someone was wearing.

Towards the end of her life mom began to eat less and less and had to be coached into eating anything at all by the nurse's aides at the nursing home. She would sit for what seemed like an eternity playing with her food. She became convinced that you had to eat your food in a certain order. She just never did decide which way was the proper way to eat her meals.

Making the decision to put her into a nursing home was the most difficult decision I ever had to make. She had begun to get up out of bed at night and would fall and then get back into bed covered in blood. No matter how I tried I just could not keep an eye on her and keep her safe.

She managed to crawl out of bed and break her hip and split her head open within a day or so of being admitted into the nursing home. After she had her hip surgery she never learned how to walk again.

Physical therapy terrified her! Mom had had many broken bones in the past and always struggled through therapy like the trooper that she was....but that was before Alzheimer's. Now the physical therapists were monsters who came to torture her. She would scream if they tried to get her to walk and begged them to stop.

I remember her telling me that two men would come into her room at night and get her and put her in her wheelchair and take her to look at the "dead fish" and she wanted me to make them stop. The two men were therapists and they were taking her out into the dining area to look at the beautiful fish in the aquarium. Mom was convinced that they were trying to kill her and she swore that all of the fish were dead.

During her first days there she also told me that when she went to bed at night that men with sheep's heads come and look into her window. She was soo afraid of them and she was afraid to go to sleep. This was just the beginning of the night terrors.

I had never heard of "sundowner's syndrome" until my experience with mom. She would become even more confused, panicky, and agitated as sundown approached. I learned that this syndrome is often seen in those with dementia such as Alzheimer's. Sometimes the hall in the nursing home would be filled with poor souls who looked like zombies...and I would always know what time it was.

Of course, the very worst part was how her descent into madness called Alzheimer's affected her ability to communicate. This once talkative, laughing woman would struggle for hours trying to get a simple sentence out. Up until her death, she was still aware of the fact that what she was saying most of the time simply made no sense.

I can remember the day she was struggling to tell me something and her face suddenly flushed with both shame and anger. She started to swear and she shouted that she was never going to talk again. I cannot even tell you just how deeply those words tore through my heart! I tried to tell her that it did not matter because I understood what she was trying to say to me, and I begged her to please not stop talking to me.

As the Alzheimer's progressed ever so rapidly for my mother, she began to speak less to me and to those around her. Staff would spoil her with special treats just to get her to say a few words or to give them a smile.

A couple of months or so before her death, she would suddenly start speaking in a very deep tone of voice. Whenever this took place, everyone around her would be amazed at how well she was able to communicate. I still get chills when I remember those times because there was no doubt in my mind that it was the voice of God that was talking to me....telling me how I must not be sad and I must prepare myself because she will be gone soon....telling me what a good and loving daughter I had been....
This would continue on for at least ten minutes each time. At the end of each episode, her head would drop down onto her chest just as though she had died.

The nurses told me that she was having T.I.A's or mini-strokes. However, deep in my heart I knew there was more to it than just that. Mom was exhausted because her body was being used as the Vessel for God to speak to me and those around her.

Even in the midst of her deepest horrors she never once lashed out at her God. She never asked Him why He was doing this to her. She never once lost her faith.

Mom died within minutes after the priest gave her the last rights. She waited for him to come before she left this earth.

A short time before her death mom began to have conversations with people that could only be seen by her. She would laugh and call out to our long dead dogs, leaning down to pat them as they sat next to her wheelchair....

Mom had developed a habit of keeping her eyes tightly closed whenever she would speak now. One day while she was sitting in her wheelchair during one of our visits she started to giggle and laugh with her eyes closed. It was not easy any more to determine if she was sleeping or not so I was not sure whether or not she was just dreaming. However, it soon became obvious that she was wide awake and alert.

I decided to ask her who she was talking to and she said, "Shh...quiet...having fun!" A few seconds later I heard her talking to her dead sister and brother and calling them by their names and then to my father. She was no doubt back on the front porch of her childhood home surrounded by those she had loved. That was the happiest I had ever seen her in a long time.

Quite some time after mom died I learned that one of the final stages of someone who is in the process of dying is that their dead loved ones will begin to visit them. They come to prepare to take them to their final home.

Mom was able to escape her monsters and was back in time where she was the most happiest. She was a young girl once again...coal black eyes sparkling and full of mischief...thick black hair blowing freely in the wind...her legs no longer crippled any more but allowing her the pleasure of being able to dance once again...