#Alzheimers #Alzwa #alzauthors #alzheimersSpeaks #caregiving #endalz
A week ago I received a report that the pain in Lynne’s left foot showed great improvement: she was wearing the black shoe I bought in a little bit bigger size than her other shoes, her fluffy socks that were in the drawer instead of tight pull-ons, and a bandage on the bottom of her foot staff. Staff said she had left it alone. The swelling had gone down. For the hour I was there she never once winced in pain or tried to work with her foot or her shoe. I hand fed her bites of mini-Reese’s peanut butter cups. She drank all of her Frappuccino so fast I switched to water, but she made an ugly face and looked at me. I apologized. She nodded her head.
I finally said I had to go. She said OK. I felt good when I left her in her reclining chair with a peaceful face. On the way home I thought of what her life was like after I left. Did she spend hour after hour dozing in that chair? Did she strain against the invisible barriers that weigh her down, confuse her, anger her, and terrify her, hoping to break free to find human touch, connection, clarity, love, or meaning?
That night I listened to Let It Be by the Beetles, over and over and over, hoping for an answer.
When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me Speaking words of wisdom Let it be. And in my hour of darkness She is standing right in front of me Speaking words of wisdom Let it be And when all the broken-hearted people Living in the world agree There will be an answer Let it be For though they may be parted There is still a chance that they will see There will be an answer Let it be. And when the night is cloudy There is still a light that shines on me Speaking words of wisdom Let it be Let it be, let it be Let it be, yeah, let it be Whisper words of wisdom Let it be