I volunteer to visit some ladies with Alzheimer's at a local memory care facility here in Kansas City. And I receive so much more than I give. I realize I shouldn't have a favorite but I do. Ruth (not her real name) is my favorite. I've been visiting her every week for more than three years. We have become incredibly close. I love her and from what I can tell, she loves me, too. She doesn't remember my name, doesn't remember that I come every Thursday, but her face always lights up when she sees me. She knows I'm someone she loves to visit with.
We always hug when I leave. Then I say, "See you later," and she says, "Alligator!"
For most of the time Ruth has been very alert and "with it." It's just her memory that has been bad. For example, one day she had some cookies and asked me if I wanted one. I pointed to my ample tummy and asked, "Do I look like I need a cookie?" She answered without missing a beat. "Oh, you're just settling!" We both had a good laugh about that.
Ruth has always loved to dance and is wild about big band music. We have often listened to it together when I visit. She is positively radiant. She tells me she was a good dancer but that her husband was so bad he just stomped out a two-step. She moves her legs up and down lively when she says that. Once she added, "He was so bad he must have learned to dance in a barn!"
Ruth also loves dogs and I sometimes take my little Shih Tzu, Christina, to visit. Ruth is in heaven when Christiana comes. After the first visit with Christina, Ruth proclaimed, "This is my best day since I've lived here!"
Although she's nearly 90 she has always been in perfect physical health. She doesn't even need to wear glasses. At one point the physical therapist tried to get her to use a walker, but she adamantly refused. She said of the idea, "That's bull *&^#!" I was shocked at her language. She'd never said anything like that before!
Then a few months ago Ruth had a downturn and was often quite confused when I visited. Sometimes she made no sense at all. This was very sad for me, but I just agreed with whatever she said. She knew what she was saying and I pretended to understand it, too. She's always been happy with these 'conversations.'
Around that time, she started crying when I left. I have found she is less upset if I tell her I have to take Christina to the vet.
Then the most horrible thing happened. Last month Ruth fell and broke her hip. I know that when people that age have a bad fall and break a leg or a hip, they may never recover from it and can pass away shortly thereafter.
Since the accident, when I visit Ruth now she makes absolutely no sense. But she's still delighted to see me. She grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly. She looks up at me from her wheelchair with a plaintive expression on her face. She won't let go of my hand.
I'm always sorry when I have to disengage my hand and leave. And I'm distressed that she may pass away sooner than if she hadn't broken her hip. That she may be gone soon. Visiting the facility will never be the same without Ruth, and I will always remember her with deep sadness and love.
Marie Marley is the award-winning author of Come Back Early Today: A Memoir of Love, Alzheimer's and Joy, and the co-author (with Daniel C. Potts, MD, FAAN) of Finding Joy in Alzheimer's: New Hope for Caregivers. Her website, ComeBackEarlyToday.com, contains a wealth of information for Alzheimer's caregivers.