Mom and her memories

 When I was in college, I did a decent job keeping in touch with my parents.  I would call every once in a while, but more importantly, whenever they would call, I would be sure to pick up.  Naturally, most times they would somehow find the most inconvenient times to call.  What do you think a 21 year old would be doing at 8:00 on a Friday night, mom?!  I would update them on my latest trials and tribulations about classes, grades, study nights, friends, etc.  As college wore on, the calls slowly but surely turned to the future: what I wanted to do (reluctantly sharing that I wanted to teach), where I wanted to study (I got into that study abroad program in Spain!) and what I would be doing once I graduated and started my student teaching.  

But one day, I got a call that was different from the rest.  My dad wanted to update me on one of my mom's recent doctor appointments.  

Let's back up.  When I was about 8 years old, my Aunt Kathy passed away.  She was in her mid-40's and had been battling Lupus for a number of years.  I have this fleeting memory of her, one of the last times I saw her.  I had been at a block party in her neighborhood in Dearborn.  It was time to say goodbye to everyone, and as I gave her a hug, it was apparent that she didn't remember my name.  It was curious, but as an 8 year old, I thought maybe she was just tired or had had one too many drinks in the celebration.  

Growing up, all of my memories of my maternal grandmother (Lucy) were from assisted living communities.  My mom would take me in the afternoon, and I would sit and chat while my mom cleaned up, wrote notes in the journal she and my aunts kept in her room, and visited with her on her scheduled days.  I can recall my grandma's confusion as the years waned, and how she would "scold" me, her youngest grandchild, if I took too many of her M&Ms kept on the table near her chair.  

So, when I got this call from my dad back in 2008, I was understandably upset.  My mom had been diagnosed with CADASIL, along with several of her sisters.  CADASIL is a hereditary disease which, in short, causes early-onset dementia, and perhaps most importantly, "mini-strokes," which slowly but surely affect patients' physical abilities.  At first, my first thoughts were reflective.  Was this why mom would forget to pick me up from practice every so often?  Is this what would set off her temper when one of us kids would test our boundaries?  Is this what Grandma and Aunt Kathy had?  Is mom going to be okay?

The years since have been a journey.  What started slowly - mom would forget a word, and for the life of her not be able to recall it, or she'd have to pause as she was making dinner, unable to remember how much ketchup went into her famous meatloaf recipe - started to escalate.  After a few years of working at the Dress Barn, she needed more and more help working the register, until it simply didn't make sense for her work there anymore.  Later still, I got several calls from my dad; mom had left hours ago for the mall only 3 miles away, and should have been home.  I can still remember the frantic look on her face when I finally tracked her down, having pulled over on the side of Newburgh road, unsure of how to get home, even though she'd made the trip thousands of times in the 30+ years of living in Livonia.

The last two or so years have only accelerated.  We've recently, after several trials and tribulations, settled on an assisted living apartment for mom.  As the CADASIL has advanced, so has the toll it's taken on her and our family, and we need the extra help just to get through the day.  The sleepless nights I've spent in anxiety, and the feeling of helplessness pales in comparison to what she, my dad, and her caretakers have endured.  CADASIL has ravaged my family - both immediate and extended.  But that's not to say that every moment is terrible.  Throughout this whole journey, mom has continued to remind us how much she loves us.  Though most of the time my dad gets the brunt of my mom's frustration, whenever he tells her he loves her, her answer is always "I love you more!" 

This blog will serve as a means to keep my loved ones in the loop, to honor my mom as the beautiful soul she is, as well as a reminder of wonderful gifts life still has to offer.