Moments

By: Norma Sessions
Alzheimer's disease, Caregiving, Loss and Grief, Love, Marriage, , , , , 7 Comments on Moments

When reflecting on Dale’s recent changes, I’ve thought, “Our moments keep getting shorter.”

For most of Dale’s disease, we shared the present. Despite the losses of memory and language, we could be together in the moment. But this is waning now, too. Times of recognition and meaningful exchanges are brief and less frequent.

Our moments keep getting shorter.

Photo: Norma Sessions

When they occur, it is like being surprised by beauty…like looking up and seeing a glorious cloud formation, or a rainbow, or a spectacular sunset. In these moments I am suddenly stopped in my tracks. Fully present. In awe.

Such a moment happened earlier this month, on the evening of our 36th wedding anniversary.

Dale tires easily and goes to bed early. However, he doesn’t always rest easily. Confusion increases. I often see him pointing up toward the corners of the room, saying things I don’t understand. Sometimes my presence seems to disturb rather than comfort him.

When I went in the bedroom that evening, I found him awake and making eye contact with me. I knelt beside the bed so we could be face to face. His eyes were clear and focused. He smiled and said, “You’re pretty!” I thanked him and told him I loved him. He returned the “I love you” but soon his attention was elsewhere. I held his hand and he looked at me again, saying, “You’re pretty!” and then “I love you” in response to my saying it. For some minutes we were together like this. Together in our moments. Connected in love. A precious anniversary gift.

“Sometimes you picture me, I’m walking too far ahead
You’re calling to me, I can’t hear what you’ve said
Then you say, ‘Go slow’, I fall behind
The second hand unwinds.

If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me
Time after time.
If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting
Time after time.”

From Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time,” the song we selected as “ours” and danced to during our wedding reception, June 2, 1985

Lifted by Love

By: Norma Sessions
Alzheimer's disease, Caregiving, Love, Memory, , 4 Comments on Lifted by Love
Photo: Norma Sessions

When I was a child, our family used to take day trips to the New Jersey shore. I enjoyed playing in the sand and the shallow, foamy water. The waves could be rough, though, and even though I knew how to swim, I was reluctant to venture out far—worried I would get knocked over and never find my way up.

One day my father, who must have been aware of my fear, convinced me to go out with him into deeper water. He led the way, navigating the rolling sea until we were in a calmer place, beyond where the waves break.

Holding both my hands, he let me experience how the ocean would gently lift us up and ease us down. Smiling, he said, “See? It’s so easy! It’s so nice out here…so easy…”

I cherish this memory of my dad, and appreciate its reminders of trust and peace. I can still feel the water lifting us up and easing us down. The memory has been especially comforting to me recently in my care of Dale.

Dale’s moods can sometimes fluctuate abruptly, like waves of rough water that I don’t see coming. His “ocean” of feelings shifts from calm to choppy and then back again with no obvious cause.

I can easily feel knocked over, sand and sea in my nose and mouth, struggling to find my footing and air to breathe. Even though I recognize the disease at work and know ways to cope, I sometimes lose my balance.

However, as in my childhood experience, others are present to help and reassure—through prayers, contacts, visits. They help “right” me, carrying God’s Love and reminding me that even in deeper waters, I am not alone. Love—like the buoyancy of salty ocean—continues to lift me.

“But now thus says the Lord,
    he who created you, O Jacob,
    he who formed you, O Israel:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine.
 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
    and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
    and the flame shall not consume you.”
Isaiah 43:1 – 2