Tag Archives: mother with dementia

MY MOTHER, MY SONG

In Hebrew, my mother’s name Shirley means my song. My mother was an exquisite song in my life. She is a magnificent melody that I will continue humming until the day I die.
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ONE DAY, YOUR PAIN WILL GO AWAY – PART 2

I was so relieved that my mother’s suffering was finally over. Music was God’s gift to lift me up. Today, God was with my mother and me. Continue reading

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ONE DAY, YOUR PAIN WILL GO AWAY – PART 1

I had prayed my mother would die in her sleep. This was the same horror show I saw when my father died. Why, why, why? Why does a person have to suffer dying when there are such humane alternatives? Continue reading

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I SEARCHED FOR A SMILE

I bent close to my mother’s face. I clutched her hands and they were soft and warm. It was just the two of us. But we were not really alone. I felt the presence of death and so did my mother. I put my head against her cheek and she slowly mouthed a kiss upon me. I began to cry. Continue reading

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YOU HOLD ME UP SO I WON’T FALL

Moving was so exhausting that it left every part of my body sore. Originally, I thought my post and writing would revolve around the experience of sleeping in my parents’ bed. I still had the rapid heartbeat in the darkness. As I lay there, I felt the thumping begin to settle down. A warm calmness enveloped me. It was so quiet and peaceful. Finally, my heart slowed down and beat softly, instead of pounding. It was all clear now. I was home. Continue reading

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SHE SANG AND HER TEARS DRIED

I was successful in my first career as an illustrator, though I was not wealthy. I have touched many people with my writing and songs, and certainly I have not made any money. I didn’t need a song contest to prove the worthiness of my musical compositions. There was only one thing in my life that truly counted. And there was no rating that I needed from anyone else for that. That would be “performing as a good person,” as a human who had made a difference on this earth. I decided to give myself a ten. Continue reading

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THE DANCE OF DEMENTIA – PART 1

My mom’s words are harder and harder to find. I try to help her find them, and she’s appreciative. But we’re dancing around and around. I don’t want to see my mother upset. There is a “dance of dementia” going on. I don’t know where the dance is leading. My mother doesn’t even know the dance is going on, except she is very frustrated by her difficulty to find her words. We’re dancing around the dementia. Continue reading

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