I thought that there would be less stress when my mom moved to the memory care home. To a degree, this is true. In other ways, it’s just different.

The last half of 2020, there was increased screaming and anger and depression every day. She just couldn’t hold it together, but she also refused medications, eating well, hygiene, etc. Depression and anger are part of the disease in general, and especially when these symptoms are untreated.

Now that the care givers are able to regulate her medication, meals, and hygiene at her memory care home, mom is doing much better. She was great for March and the early part of April. Then she started having the same type of issues again. This is typical as the disease slowly progresses. There will be leveling off, a few highs, and then more loss.

Now the screaming is back. Fortunately, she seems to do well with most other people, or at least she doesn’t let her anger take over her whole being like it does with me. This is also typical that people with Alzheimer’s lash out at their primary caregiver.

I know part of it is the disease, but part of it is always how she has treated only her descendants. Most of the time, she’s fine, but not always. The screaming has happened every few months all of my life. She also tells us how dreadful we are in a way one would think we’d committed murder, done illicit drugs, and kidnapped babies (all, not just 1). Obviously, we haven’t done anything like that. It’s random, but her words and tone of voice have caused great grief in our family that leads to long term pain.

At least I am getting better at not responding back to her anger with more anger. I just wish it would help to calm her. It’s almost worse when I remain calm. Nothing I say distracts her from her anger. Others can change the subject with her, but that makes things worse when I do it.

Until a few hours later. Then she may call me back and have no recollection of the anger from shortly before. Other times she remembers for days. I never know who I will be talking with when I call her or answer her calls or see her in person.

I need to be here for her. I am her primary caregiver, just like she was once for me. I need to ensure she has the best life possible while enduring a mind ravaging, progressive, and terminal disease.

I vow to do what I am able to do with her best interests in heart and mind. She can scream and insult and berate me all the day long, but I will be here to support and love her. I just wish she treated us descendants like she does everyone else. But this is what we have, and we all do our best to bring to life the joy my dad wanted us to have in our lives. This involves a therapist and my doctor providing support and medication for me, while her doctors do the same for her, and that’s a healthy piece of this 3D puzzle called life.

My dad endured a lot in his lifetime, and yet he found humor and joy most every day, even with the loss of two daughters and his first wife while they were far too young to leave this world. He is my example of a life well lived, and I pray we are all able to strive for that.

Moral of the story: I am sure I will see humor another day. It’s just not today. Probably not tomorrow. But I will do what I am able to have joy in my life and try to bring mom joy, just like my dad repeatedly said he wanted for all of us.