Editor’s Corner: Alzheimer’s awareness month

She would walk around the house in the strangest clothes... one outfit on top of the other. The blouse would often be turned inside out... nothing ever matched. Floral and checks seemed to be her favorite. She would wrap her arms around her waist, as if she was always scared. Yet, she was the meanest woman I had ever known. She was loud, argumentative... her harsh words cut me in pieces.

I tried to keep my distance, but we lived in the same house. And, it was “my job” to “take care of grandma.”

A loved one’s dementia diagnosis can leave you feeling scared and overwhelmed. I was a young teenager when my grandmother came to live with us. In the beginning, she shared her life’s stories with me and I was inspired by this woman I had really never known. Then as her memory began to fail, so did our relationship. I didn’t know anything about alzheimer’s and neither did my parents. My dad just tried to ignore it and my mom patiently went about keeping the household together... meeting every challenge. She had the patience of a Saint and my grandmother was so very blessed to have her as a daughter-in-law. Yet, all she really knew to do was try to keep grandma calm. A lot of times, the only way that would happen would be to give her anything she wanted.

If grandma wanted to wear five suits of clothes at the same time, that’s what she did. If grandma wanted to sit in a corner with her head behind her legs, that’s what she did. If grandma wanted to rip pages out of her family Bible, that is what she did. If grandma wanted to throw pennies in the wood stove, that is what she did. If grandma wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, that is what she did. If grandma wanted to stay in bed all day with her head under the cover, that is what she did. The list goes on...

Until the day finally came when she no longer recognized anyone and slowly slipped away into her own world. It was then my mom agreed to move grandma into the nursing home. She stayed there for a couple of years before going home to meet the Lord. My mom traveled the 40 mile round trip to visit her several times a week.

I asked my mom once why she had taken such good care of grandma. Her own mom had died when I was just a baby. Her answer was a bit unexpected. “She was a strong woman who put up with a lot in her life. She deserved to be treated with care and respect.” It was at that moment I knew my mom saw a bit of herself in Grandma Brand.

Carey Mulligan once said, "Those with dementia are still people and they still have stories and they still have character and they're all individuals and they're all unique. And they just need to be interacted with on a human level."

My mom didn’t know much about alzheimer’s in those days, but she did know my grandma was still the same woman who was given away by her own father as a child; the same woman who had struggled and worked hard her entire life to survive; the same woman who raised five children as the wife of a dirt poor farmer; and the same woman who found it in her heart to find forgiveness by placing it all in the hands of the Lord.

Her dementia did not define her...

Sandra Brand is the editor of the NEA Town Courier and The Osceola Times. She may be reached by phone at 870-763-4461 or 870-563-2615 or by email at brand@osceolatimes.com.