Silent House - I Will Let You Forget

My Grama has Senile Dementia, (ADT). I've been taking care of her since 1998. She was diagnosed sometime around 2000. They only know that it's "Altzheimer's type dementia" because the medication helps. It's the late onset kind, which is good. She's 88 now.

We had to remove the knobs on the stove about 5 years ago, when she kept forgetting she wasn't allowed to use the stove and trying to cook. She can still scramble eggs in a bowl and then nuke them most mornings, although she sometimes overcooks them and I have caught her spooning them up raw. (Last week she put catsup on the lovely oatmeal with raisins and applesauce I'd made her for breakfast) On the days I don't prepare a lunch for her, I put a can of progresso or one of the other things she likes, chili or ravioli on the electric can-opener (that was in her kitchen for as long as I can remember) and holler to her that it's there whenever she wants to eat.

I try to encourage her to do what she is able for herself, not because I mind doing for her, but because somehow I feel it helps her stay here. Stay with us, in the world; in herself.

But little by little she is slipping away from me. She confuses my daughter with my mom, or refers to her as "that girl, you know, my caregiver" (because F takes care of her occasionally so I can go out). Friends of the family like to go into her room, where she sits in front of her blaring TV, or naps on her bed. She is always gracious and polite, but often tells them how nice it is to meet them. She introduces herself to people she saw two weeks ago and tells them that her name is Ruby, but "just call me Grama; everybody does".

She hardly ever yells at or argues with me anymore. Mostly that is nice, because she used to be a real pain in the ass, calling us all "fucking liars", because she couldn't remember that she forgets. (But sometimes I miss that feisty ol' bitch.)

But she doesn't tell me stories anymore.

She doesn't remember the time that one of my Grampa's girlfriends had the nerve to knock on their door, (when Grams was in her 30's) and how she "slapped that bitch and then chased her down the street". She doesn't remember how when she was 17 and Grampa was courting her, and after a little goodnite kissing he put his hand on her thigh and she was so freaked out about what to do that she pretended to faint.

I've tried to keep those good stories alive in her. Reminding and coaching her. Once in awhile she surprises me, but mostly she is forgetting. It's breaking my heart, slowly.

My Grama taught me how to chew gum "like a lady", with my mouth closed.
She taught me how to drink my milk or juice without getting a mustache.
She taught me how to file my nails.
She taught me how to keep score for a baseball game.
To work crossword puzzles, play scrabble and yahtzee.
She filled my childhood with holiday delight.
She washed my face and neck and ears and knees and feet before putting me in the bathtub.
(and washed my hair in the kitchen sink)

She played the guitar a little, sang with a whiskey alto, drank coors beer, and loved to laugh. She won trophies shooting pool at the VFW, and you never saw a couple dance like she and Gramps.

And I keep hearing this incredible song by the Dixie Chicks, written about their own experience with this disease. And it speaks to my soul and my heart, and it kills me but also fills me.

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house

I will. I will hold the stories, Grama. I will let you forget

Altzheimer's Info dot org
Altzheimer's Support Forums
Sena (education and programs for aging and dying)

Silent House

These walls have eyes
Rows of photographs
And faces like mine
Who do we become
Without knowing where
We started from

It's true I'm missing you
As I stand alone in your room

Everything that you made by hand
Everything that you know by heart
Everyday that will pass you by
Every name that you won't recall

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house

One room
Two single beds
In the closet hangs
Your favorite dress
The books that you read
Are in scattered piles
Of paper shreds

Everything that you made by hand
Everything that you know by heart

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house
Silent house

In the garden off the living room
A chill fills the air
And the lilies bloom

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this

And I will try to connect
All the pieces you left
I will carry it on
And let you forget
And I'll remember the years
When your mind was clear
How the laughter and life
Filled up this silent house

Silent house