I often try to imagine what a day like today must be like for Kate. I know she can’t remember what city she is in, and I mean right here at home in Knoxville. She doesn’t know what restaurant we are in or what she eats even though I usually order the same thing for her. When we are headed someplace in the car, she never knows where we are going even though I have told her. I do know that she is often curious about where we are because she asks, “Where are we?” When I tell her something, she sometimes says, “I’ve already forgotten.”
Today was a typical one until 2:00. Kate woke up a little earlier, and we arrived at Panera shortly after 9:30. She was feeling a little tired, so we were back home at 10:45. She went to our bedroom to rest. I don’t think she fell asleep but she was in bed until I got her up for lunch shortly after noon. Then we were off to lunch.
We were back home at 2:00. I told her we were going to a visitation for a friend and would need to change our clothes before leaving. She couldn’t remember who had died even though he was the spouse of someone with whom we have had a relationship since I was on the UT faculty in 1971. I asked if she would like me to pick out something for her to wear. She said that she would appreciate that. I got her a pair of pants and a top with an attractive cardigan sweater to wear over it. I brought them to her and laid them out on our bed. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I came out, she had thrown the pants and sweater on her chair. I found the top on the floor. I said, “You didn’t put on your clothes.” She said, “Where are we going?” I told her again and showed her the clothes she was to wear. I went to the closet to get something for myself. When I came out, she was about to put on her cardigan sweater (no buttons) without her top. I told her to put on her top before putting on the sweater. She looked confused. Then I told her that first she should take off the top and pants she was wearing. When I said that, she congratulated me by saying, “Now that was clear.” That was all it took. She got dressed, and we left. I think I should say now that I was very cool during this process. I didn’t want to prompt a panic attack. I do everything I can to avoid those.
In the car, she asked me where we were going. It was then that I told her that we were going to a memorial service for someone I know from the Y and then we would go to the visitation for our mutual friend. I knew when I said it that was too much for her to grasp though I don’t think I could have prevented it. As it turned out, I didn’t see anyone that I know at the service. Of course, Kate didn’t either. She was incredibly patient throughout.
After the service, we headed to the visitation. Several times on the way over, she asked questions about who had died and the person’s connection to us. When I mentioned our mutual friend who had also been a professional friend with the school district, Kate couldn’t remember her. When we arrived at the funeral home, she asked if it were a church. She asked the same thing inside and as we got to the car afterward. She also asked who had died. The whole afternoon must have been a very confusing one for her. I really felt sorry for her, but she handled herself beautifully. I was the only one who knew just how confused she was.
Once inside, she told me she remembered being there before. She pointed to specific parts of the hallway that she recalled. As you might have guessed, we had never been to this funeral home. It is a fairly new one.
We waited in line for about twenty minutes before seeing our friend whose husband had died. Kate asked if she could walk around a room on the other side of the hall where we were in line. I told her she could and pointed to the chapel that was adjacent to the room she wanted to see. I noticed that she stepped into the chapel and looked around before returning to the line. As we were preparing to leave, we walked by the room, and I pointed to the chapel again. She was completely surprised and wanted to look at it again.
We spoke with our friend in the receiving line and then moved to the end of the room where they had set up a television with a slide show of pictures of our friend’s husband. While I was chatting with a woman that had been standing in line with us, Kate went to an adjoining room where they had some light refreshments and a display of various pictures and mementos of the deceased. When I got to the room, she said she wanted to show me a picture of someone who looked like her mother. She couldn’t remember where she had seen it, but I saw a picture that included someone I thought had to the one she was talking about. I showed it to her, and she confirmed it. Shortly afterward as we were nearing the exit of the funeral home, we got engaged in a conversation with the owner. Kate said she wanted to see the picture of “her mother.” She couldn’t remember how to get there. I pointed in the direction of the end of the hallway and said, “Turn right and it’s the first door on your left.” I knew she would not be able to find it, but I also knew she couldn’t go much further and get lost. Then a friend who was there offered to take her. I accepted. In a few minutes, I met her in the room with the picture. I took her over to the picture. It became obvious that she thought it was her mother. She looked very teary. In situations like this, I always have to decide whether to let it go or to tell the truth. In this particular case, I told the truth. I said, “It looks a lot like your mother, but she’s not. She accepted that without a problem. I am glad. I would have felt very guilty if she had been hurt by the truth.
Then we walked toward the exit. As we did, I saw one of our friends’ son and pointed him out to Kate. When I mentioned our friend, she had forgotten that our friend, as the wife of the deceased, had been the first one in the receiving line. We had already seen and spoken with her, but she said, “I want to speak to her.” In this case, I didn’t tell her the truth. I just said, “Let’s go back to the room where she was before and see if you can speak to her.” By this time, most of the crowd had dispersed. We found her talking with a member of the music faculty. Our friend’s husband had served as department chair for almost 30 years. It turns out that the faculty member with whom she was talking was also our son’s piano teacher during his junior and senior years in high school. We had just seen him at dinner the night before. We walked over to join them. Kate greeted our friend as though it had been years since she had last seen her. Our friend is aware of Kate’s diagnosis, so I don’t think she thought much about it.
It has really been a good day. I am glad that we went to both the memorial service and the visitation. I wish that it had not been so confusing for Kate, but she seemed to get along pretty well even in her confusion. In addition, the pain in her knee has been worse today. She has walked even more slowly than usual and took a good bit of time getting into and out of the car as well as her chair in a restaurant. She hasn’t complained, only acknowledged the pain. She is remarkable.
