Kate’s vocabulary continues to shrink. At lunch on Friday, she picked up her knife and asked, “What is this?” I said, “It’s a knife.” She said, “What’s a knife?” I explained that it was something we use to cut our food. She said, “So it’s a cutter.”
Saturday morning after brushing her teeth, she showed me the toothpaste and said, “What’s this?” I told her that was the toothpaste she had used to brush her teeth.
I should add the word “wife.” That was the word she didn’t remember yesterday morning when I told her we were “husband and wife.” Of course, I shouldn’t forget “glasses.” She has so often commented on my glasses suggesting that I might look better without them that I was surprised when she forgot that word.
These are just a few of the words I have had to explain in the past few days. As I have said in the past, I don’t mean that these words are now completely dropped from her vocabulary. I suspect if I showed her all of these objects right now, she might identify them correctly without hesitation. The point is that they are signs her memory for everyday things is beginning to weaken.
Each one is just a little thing. Over time, however, they add up. It alters the flow of conversation. I find that especially noticeable when we are with others. As someone tells us something, Kate has to stop them to ask what a certain word means. Most of them are much less common than knife, toothpaste, and glasses, but it still has an effect on our conversation.
As I have noted before, losing her ability to speak will be a low blow for me. Although the content of our conversations is far from what it was before Alzheimer’s, the sound of her voice remains. It’s certainly not the only connection between us, but it is one I value highly. Yesterday her enthusiasm for the flowers in our family room and patio and the trees behind our house was at a peak. It was a high moment for me just to see and hear her enthusiasm. She pointed out everything that was special to her. Then when she turned around, she saw them again “for the first time.” I will miss hearing her express enthusiasm like that if she loses the ability to speak, and that is likely if she lives long enough.
