The Snowflake Chronicles

Seeing the World with Fresh Eye

Journal Entry Lesson 4
Written in February 2010

Word count: 482

Mom has Alzheimer’s, short-term memory issues, cataracts and macular degeneration. One of the things I have noticed when Mom is riding with me is her fascination with white vehicles. Every time Mom sees a white car, truck, or van, it is as if she is seeing it for the first time, seeing it with fresh eyes and she comments on every white vehicle she sees.

Mom does not realize she has Alzheimer’s disease or short-term memory problems. When she cannot find an item, Mom thinks it has to do with her inability to see the item or that someone has stolen it, thrown the item out or hid it from her. As a result, I am seeing my mother in a new light; I am seeing her with fresh eyes. It is both frightening and intriguing; it is something I have to write about, it is not a pleasant subject, but a necessary subject.

My sister came to visit us on Tuesday, I am 63 and my sister is 60, both of us have gone through menopause. Mom was glad to see my sister, she hugged her and then Mom asked if my sister and her husband had any children. Sis said no, that they were still working on it; a wise answer under the circumstances. After Sis left, Mom commented on how tall my sister was getting. Mom did not remember my sister’s age, I suspect Mom has no idea how old I am at times.

On Sunday, I went into Mom’s bathroom to get some dirty cloths. Mom had rinsed them out and hung them in her shower to dry. She saw me take them and put them in with the dirty cloths. We took them to the laundromat, washed them and when we came home, she put them in her room. The next day, Mom accused me of taking some “what not’s” out of her bathroom and throwing them away. All Mom remembered, was that I took something out of her bathroom. She did not remember that I took cloths and put them in the wash, she thought I took other items out and threw them away.

Mom sees the world, her family and friends through her own imagination. Sometimes that imagination is extremely frightening, sometimes it is amusing, and sometimes refreshing, but it is always from the point of view of her imagination. Mom’s experiences feed that imagination and she comes to conclusions that are real from her point of view, but not necessarily true.

I have to write about what is happening to Mom. I have to write about it from two different points of view. I have to write about it from her point of view or as close to her point of view as I can get. I have to write about it from my point of view, the point of view of a caregiver.