Gloria, by nature, first impulse –pre- AND post 2008 Alzheimer diagnosis— is to be open and friendly. Open and friendly even when meeting someone for the first time, which, given the nature of Alzheimer’s, is almost always the case. That is, at this/that point in the progression of the disease she’s almost always in the moment, this moment, to the exclusion of all past moments. It’s no longer a surprise when she forgets my name or her children’s names or the names of friends going back to the early 1970s. But she’s Gloria, still Gloria, and that comes through. Something essential about this person remains the same and because it remains the same for me and indeed for all of us who love her, we rarely have the feeling that something’s missing. She may be in the last two or three years of her life, but nothing, nothing’s been subtracted. And if it has been, the essential, that underlying spirit, that “ever fix’d star…” she’s there, she’s there, there, there… and I understand anew the title of the work, “Love Has Made Grief Absurd.”
Anonymous says
What come to mind is that phase “an abiding Joy.”
In conversation recently with one of Gloria’s daughters, we remarked on how Gloria each and every morning those last months (years?) of her life she woke with a bright and cheery smile. Looking forward, it seemed, to the day and basking, we felt, in the care and concern of the loving people around her. One gift I personally looked forward to was hearing her speak, our conversations… the basis in fact for much of the content in “Love Has Made Grief Absurd.”
Liz says
So true. That was how it was with my mother — if you weren’t around her, you felt you’d already lost her — but if you were, while there were many things lost, there was so much still very much there! She had a lovely essence and that remained — her love of beauty, children, animals, ballet, music….her favorite video (which she could watch and watch and watch) was of great ballet duets. She had a joy about her, once she came to live with us and we stood between her and the things that were terrifying her before. As hard as it was, we miss that lovely spirit, that smile and enjoyment every day. This really captured it. Thank you.
Robert says
Thank you. I’m still learning from these last ten years, the previlege of being w I t h her throughout, and especially those last days. It’s a miracle, life, and how and what we learn. Giving voice to the voiceless, and that includes myself. Discovering what I have to say by saying it… it’s all a miracle, All a surprise! And, again, thank you for taking the time to comment as you have!
Anonymous says
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Anonymous says
What come to mind is that phase “an abiding Joy.”
In conversation recently with one of Gloria’s daughters, we remarked on how Gloria each and every morning those last months (years?) of her life she woke with a bright and cheery smile. Looking forward, it seemed, to the day and basking, we felt, in the care and concern of the loving people around her. One gift I personally looked forward to was hearing her speak, our conversations… the basis in fact for much of the content in “Love Has Made Grief Absurd.”