You always want to live with the person you love the most till the last day of your life, but this dream ruins entirely when the person doesn’t remember you.
It is so lugubrious even to think about this situation. You and your partner make all the memories together but what will happen if the memories washed away from the person’s mind.
All the happiness shared, all the sadness shared, all the tears shared, all the smiles shared fade away from your life, and it will break you in tears. This dolorous is only felt by the patient of Alzheimer disease.
One such painful agony was shared by a lady Brittany Halbsgut. She gave words to her feelings of being remembered for a microsecond by her loving Grandma.
Here her words:
“As my mum-mum reached 90 today, I can’t help but reflect on this photo from two years ago. It’s special to me because when I look at it, I just know in my heart that it was a rare moment when my mum-mum came back to me.
You see, she has Alzheimer’s. When I visited her on this day, she spent much of the earlier part of it looking at me as though I was a stranger. She didn’t know who I was, why I was there, or why I was talking to her. My momma and I would tell a story of a time we had with her and she would just kind of grunt and vaguely nod with a far-off look in her eye. It broke my heart to see the independent, energetic, and lively woman I grew up with replaced with someone so sad and lost in her wheelchair. It wasn’t until we went outside to see the horses that she perked up.
As we sat outside, suddenly she began to tell me stories about when she was growing up (some true, some not), how she packed her husbands lunch that morning and he was currently at work (not true), and how she saw the retirement community with her mother and loved it so much she decided to come back (also not true). She told me these stories back to back to back without blinking an eye, but at least she was talking. I acted surprised and interested every single time she repeated them.
Eventually, we turned and looked at each other. She stared into my eyes, and I could see her mind turning. She asked me ‘What color are my eyes?’ When I told her green, she said ‘like yours?’ I said ‘no, mine are blue. Want to trade?’ When I moved in close, instead of pulling away in confusion, she laughed just like she used to, a big bellow from her stomach, and pulled me closer. This exact motion is something I remember seeing her, and my momma does growing up, and it’s something my momma and I still do. Plain and simple, it makes our eyes go all big and round, and we usually end up giggling uncontrollably at how purely silly it looks. And that’s exactly what happened here. Through the fog, my mum-mum and I giggled and pressed our faces together just like old times. We laughed and laughed and asked when the eyeball trade was going to take place. Afterwards, she went back to telling made up stories, and I realized once again how she lives in a world that I’m not a part of.
But for a few sweet minutes, captured here, Alzheimer’s took a break and gave me back my mum-mum.”