The Home

Its her “house.”  I spend a fairly decent chunk of my time there every day, so I thought I would share a few photos I have been taking at the nursing home where my mother lives.  Many, but not all, of the other residents also have Alzheimer’s (or at least some form of dementia).

Back on the 4th of July, the staff decided to serve watermelon to the residents.  As the activities director carried in each watermelon, she stopped at this gentleman’s wheel chair to get his “approval.”  He was once a successful farmer.  He often comes out to the lobby area to look out the large glass windows and watch the world go by.  The day I took the photo, he saw me aim the camera towards him, and he never changed his expression – not even one little bit.  When I showed him his own image on the LCD of my camera, he never changed his expression.

(As always, be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version.)

I often process the nursing home photos in black and white.  The starkness of B&W suits dementia well – it doesn’t make the disease look good.  But, not everything in the home is stark.  Sometimes I am struck by the warmth and love I see.  In this photo, the wife is the resident.  Her husband comes every single day, and spends hours there with her.  I usually see him pushing her wheelchair as they tour the parking lot.  On this occasion, he “helps” her with her coloring.  A long time ago, this man said “In sickness and in health . . .” and he took that vow very seriously.  Color suites this photograph – it is one of love and caring and sharing.

I’ve watched this lady being fed by the staff on a number of occasions.  She is always in her wheelchair, and though she may talk, I have never heard her.  Sadly, I’ve never seen visitors either.  I wonder who put her in the nursing home – I wonder if she ever had a joyful time in her life.  I wonder what is in store for her.  I wonder if she wonders.

One of the best known stories from the Bible is about Ruth and Naomi.  Ruth was Naomi’s daughter-in-law.  When both women lost their husbands, Ruth pledged to stay with the older woman – “Whither thou goest . . “  And that is how I see the Mystery Guest Blogger and Mom.  My mother may not always be able to remember names and facts anymore, but she knows what love is – and she responds.

This photo definitely should be in color.

Comments

[Russ]

I am curious to know what is written on the farmers right hand? Great story and superb pictures. I don't know what else to say. I found myself asking the same questions you did as I read the blog. You wonder about the "journey" and question the present. Awesome dude, love you man.

[Triet]

Doug, wonderful as always. I've truly enjoyed reading everything you write about your mother and your relationship with her.

I remember seeing my grandmother slip farther and farther away. One moment, I'm a high school senior, and she's quite lucid, maybe a little forgetful here and there, but I didn't notice anything. The next moment I'm visiting her in a nursing home and she thinks my father (her son) is her boyfriend, and she is 14 years old.

In a way it was hard. I saw how traumatic incidents can speed the change. My grandfather died from malpractice the day before my senior prom, and the succeeding year she rotated staying with my family and my cousins. However, her memory started fading fast. Soon, she couldn't travel like before, and we made the agonizing decision to put her in a home.

We chose one close to her daughter, so she was visited often, but one day she fell and broke her hip. From then on not only was she confined to a wheel chair, but my grandmother sped downward in her dementia progression. She quickly went from forgetful and unable to take care of herself to thinking she was a giggly teenager.

On the other hand, and what your post has really helped me to realize, is that out of the hardships God gave me a blessing. Obviously, I never knew my grandmother as a young woman, and I knew of her "life before 65" only from stories my family related during holidays and reunions. Yet, the little I was able to see of my grandmother in that final state gave me a very real, tangible, indelible understanding of who she was before she became "grandmother." Seeing her act like the young woman I had seen pictures of and heard stories about, burned those images and memories into my mind in a way that many grandchildren never have the opportunity. I feel almost that God gave me a rare chance to slip back two generations and participate in her life. And for that, I'm eternally grateful.

I know my comment is slightly off topic, but your excellent post was the straw that broke the camel's back, and I had to put my feelings into words and share them with you. Although your mom has never met me, say hi to her for me next time. Thanks.

[Tom Murray]

My almost 90 year old mom is here in Florida this week. I'm moving back to Florida from Charleston, SC. My mom is very clear thinking and as I read the blog I am always thankful for that. She has horrible arthritis, but she can still watch her three year-old great grandson Dylan jump in the pool hundreds of times. She can hold her great grand daughter Samantha at age 6 weeks. I always wonder if this time is the last time I will see her alive. The decades of arthritis medications has damaged her liver. She doesn't see very well if at all, but she loves the great grandchildren and this is a special time for all of us.

This blog constantly reminds me to call her and be in her life daily. I have pictures, but not as professional as these on the blog. One day the pictures and memories will be all we have.

Thanks again Doug for keep us all aware of what life is really about.

[Yi Hsuan (Julie's student in ELI)]

When they look at us I wonder what are they thinking about? Do they expect the strangers like us to talk with them? Do they feel lonely most of the time? I've been nursing home twice after I came to America. It's a volunter job that ELI hold for students to visiting nursing house. Our first visit is an ex-tutor in ELI-Isabell. She has been suffered from a kind of breath disease for 2 months at that time. While we visited her, she was already getting better. All of us were enjoy talking with her, however her disease will not allow her to be our tutor again. When I saw those old lady and gentleman, I feel sad because I just know they were lonely. I always know I shouldn't have that feeling, becasue it's a normal thing that everyone will face it one day. I wish every children can give more attention to their parents wherever they are. I like your sharing, the home is warming up now. ^^

[Miss Kitty]

The picture of the farmer struck me--he looks like any other farmer I've ever met, not as if he lives at a nursing home. Dementia really can strike anyone.

The photo of the husband and wife coloring was angled so well...and I loved the little detail of the button pinned to her sweater: an icon/engraving of Jesus in brilliant, shining colors. Bravo, Doug.

[bac]

thanks for this post. the couple you captured reminds me of my grandparents, who are in the same circumstance in north texas. he visits her daily and now he's the only person she recognizes.

i came here from sticky rice's blog hoping to find information on Huê, but found something closer to home.