The families of our fellow residents at Still Hopes often bring their little ones when they visit. I’m always intrigued by how much they enjoy simple things. They can have fun with a cardboard box or a piece of paper. At this stage of her Alzheimer’s, Kate is like that.
She enjoys the plastic placemat at her place on the table of our community dining room. For a while, she liked pulling it off the table and folding it. Now, she just enjoys touching it.
She also smiles and laughs the way babies and toddlers do. This often happens at surprising times. One of the most predictable times is when we are getting her ready for bed in the evening. That involves personal things most of us wouldn’t want others to do for us, but for Kate, most of what we do is simply part of her daily routine.
She also laughs and talks at other times. That often happens when I say “I love you.” Sometimes she smiles and talks as she is waking up in the morning. It is clear that she is happy, and my intuitive thought enables me to be happy with her. What more could I want? To be cured of her Alzheimers? Obviously, that’s impossible. My rational thought accepts that.
Prior to the late stage of Alzheimer’s, I hadn’t thought about the likelihood that she might be so childlike, but it makes sense when I think about it. Kate as well as babies and toddlers have something in common. Their lives are shaped by their dependence on intuitive thought. Babies and toddlers haven’t yet developed the rational thought that will play such a large role later in their lives. Kate, on the other hand, has lost her rational thought. That leaves her with only her intuitive thought.
I want to emphasize that we have not been able to cure Alzheimer’s. We just found ways to make the best of a situation that has radically changed our lives for the past fifteen years.
One might ask if other people in our shoes could also find joy while “Living with Alzheimer’s”? That’s an important question, and one that I’ll leave for another post.
