We are back home.
After a fast 10 day road trip, my head is still buzzing, but we have arrived. I am adjusting to the quiet of an empty boy's room, yet I eagerly anticipate some 'playing house' time. It feels like ages since I've tidied and reorganized.
However, before I start dusting and sweeping, I must share a significant story because I want to preserve this memory.
***
Before my mom received a dementia diagnosis, I saw the film “Awakenings”; my memory of the specifics is faint. What I recall is a man developing a medication that revived nearly comatose dementia patients. If my memory serves, the effect was temporary, and the movie left me weeping.
This concept frequently crosses my mind when considering my mom's dementia. I often wonder if her mind could clear and she could truly 'come alive' again. I deeply wish to connect with the vibrant woman I recall—the one who loved to talk, laugh, sing, and offer sound advice. My current focus remains on appreciating her past self and loving her as she is now.
My siblings thoughtfully prepare me before each visit with my mom. Since I see her infrequently, the shifts in her condition can be quite startling. Last year marked my first sighting after she had lost her ability to speak. While they prepared me, hearing nothing from her formerly lively and conversational self was difficult.
This year, they advised me she might be apprehensive about me. I prayed my yearly visit would not conclude poorly, but the illness's unpredictable nature meant I was truly unsure what to anticipate.
I braced myself as I cautiously approached her 6 days ago. When I leaned in to greet her, her gaze met mine with only bewilderment.
I spoke animatedly, cheerfully introducing my husband and youngest son, strategically aiming to avoid overwhelming or frightening her.
I genuinely could not discern if she felt fear, irritation, a desire to leave, or was simply content! We set up chairs and attempted to converse despite a loud television in the room. It wasn't the best spot, but she would not move to a more pleasant area.
UNTIL we posed this question,
“Mom, would you like to sing with us?”
She instantly grasped the chair arm and stood up. We took her hand and moved to the dining room where the piano was located.
Our youngest son accompanied us that day. Recognizing how awkward such moments can be for a teenager, I gave him my camera, suggesting, “Please capture some photos if you wish.”
I was unaware of what a gifted photographer he would be! I am so thankful for the candid images he captured; this 'miracle moment' is beautifully documented!
Once mom was settled by the piano, I sat at the bench and opened the hymn book provided by the nursing home.
As I browsed the pages, my thoughts raced rapidly. Despite having taken piano lessons as a child, I hadn't played a single note in over 3 years. I hoped I could recall the fundamentals—sometimes you have to try anything!
I cannot recall the initial song we attempted, but soon our own 'Awakenings' moment occurred.
Mom began to sing along.
Words fail to capture that instant. It felt as though time and seasons vanished, offering a brief glimpse of the Mom—this cherished woman who hadn't spoken in over a year—singing as she did for many years.
Song after song followed.
We sang *It is Well with My Soul*, *Amazing Grace*, *Trust and Obey*, and *Great is Thy Faithfulness*.
The blend of that unbelievable moment and the songs deeply moved us; tears occasionally slipped out. As I looked at mom while singing…
a tear snuck out of hers, too.
It was a gift straight from our amazing Creator who designed our brains so intricately! I just don’t understand.
But, I’m grateful He does.
After about 10 songs, we realized mom had probably had enough. The dining room was filling up for the lunch hour, and she seemed like she was anxious not to miss is.
As we stood up to say good-bye, I saw in Mom’s eyes what my brother had warned me about.
She suddenly seemed afraid of me.
My heart sunk, and I just didn’t want to leave with that as my last memory.
I so longed to give her a hug and kiss her downy hair and tell her I loved her. So, I took a deep breath, and kept talking.
“Mom, we’re going to have to go soon, but I’d really like to give you a hug first. Would that be ok?”
Of course, there is never any response, so I just gently did it anyway.
I teased my husband and son that my hug got her all warmed up, because after that, she very willingly & eagerly hugged (and squeezed!) both of them!
Before we walked out the door, I asked my husband to take one more picture of mom and I. We lined up for our little photo shoot. Right before he snapped the picture, he “peeked” out from behind it and said to Mom,
“Oh, I think you can give me a little smile, can’t you?”, and this is what happened.
That smile is so precious to me…
I can’t tell this story without thanking my sister-in-law for being with us that day. She helps me put my courage on when I go for my once-a-year visits with mom. Her kindness and care and confidence are exactly what I need to help me through these bittersweet visits, and I think she’s walked me through each one since mom has been diagnosed! As these scenes unfolded, she whipped out her IPhone and got some footage of Mom singing.
If you are looking for some awesome music to put on your ITunes, this won’t be it, but for those of you who’ve known my mom, I thought you may find this to be a gift, too.
And, as a humorous side note: My mom was our church pianist for many years. She was good. Really good. I, however, am not!:) I found it quite funny when she would scowl down at the piano keys when I’d hit a wrong note…and I hit many! It still amazes me how our minds work. And for you moms who are struggling to get your kids to practice music lessons, you might try telling them that if someday their minds start to slip, music is the last thing to go.
I think that’s an incredible fact!
