by Hazel
I had lived next door but one to Jean for 35 years, but it wasn’t until after her husband suddenly died of dementia in 2000 that our friendship began to deepen and grow. Since she was living right across from me, it was easy to start taking her dishes of food to help supplement her meals, and to do odd jobs around her house.
After losing her husband she was lonely and longed for social and spiritual support and companionship. In fact she seemed to really enjoy herself at the weekly prayer and worship group that met in my home every Thursday. She was always a part of these meetings! Anywhere from eight to fifteen plus students would come over from La Sierra University to my home on a regular basis for years and we would sing praise songs and minister to one another and pray for one another to be healed of burdens on our hearts.
The kids all loved on Jean and patiently listened to her questions about the Bible when she didn’t understand something. They regularly prayed for her to be healed of her fears and depression that plagued her on and off for years. Over time her anxieties seemed to diminish and she became sure of her salvation in Jesus.
Jean loved to witness students let go of their bitterness and unforgiveness toward those who had hurt or spiritually abused them. She loved to watch how God began releasing them from all kinds of bondage and addictions that had kept them in spiritual darkness. As a result of this ministry of the Holy Spirit, Jean also received healing and freedom from her own pain that she had carried for many years over the death of her handicapped daughter. She was finally able to truly forgive herself and receive God’s healing for her own hurting heart.
It was during these meetings that Jean became a “grandma” to many, many needy and hurting students. They loved on her, and accepted her even as they saw her mind begin to decline as she began coming down with all the symptoms that later proved to be Alzheimer’s.
I don’t know when it was that I "adopted" Jean as my "Momskey". I guess I needed a “mom” as much as she needed a daughter. I had been taken away from my biological mom at birth because of her mental sickness and when I was given back to her she had lost all love for me. It is still hard for me to have a meaningful relationship with her because of her schizophrenia… and now dementia.
But it was very easy for me to have a relationship with Jean over the years because she was open to giving love and being loved. She loved God’s word, loved to sing and cook, loved flowers and cats and watching and feeding the birds. She loved to dance and enjoyed watching others dance, too. Her favorite color was aqua, and she loved blues and greens and the color peach. She always noticed the latest trends in fashion and always wanted to dress younger than her years. She had a great sense of humor. Take a look at the picture boards and you will see what a spunky lady she was!
But as the months passed by and turned into years I gradually began to notice a change in her ability to remember how to perform normal daily routines. It was little things at first. After seeing her eat cold soup one too many times in the middle of winter I knew she had forgotten how to use the microwave or stove. Since I knew she liked to hang her wet laundry outside to dry, I questioned what was going on when I saw only one pair of pants or one blouse at a time hanging on her clothesline. She had forgotten how to use her washing machine so she was trying to wash one item of clothing at a time in the kitchen sink.
The day I found more candy bars than food in her refrigerator after she had gone grocery shopping, was the day I knew her ability to reason and make wise decisions was slipping. The day I realized that “Momskey” could no longer remember how to drive her car was the day I realized that she needed a “Daughterskey”. She fondly began signing birthday cards, “To my Daughterskey” until she was unable to remember how to write the words. Then I would write them down for her to copy. Sometimes that task would take her several hours as she tenaciously struggled to make the words legible.
The last few months haven’t been easy. In fact they have been excruciatingly painful at times as I have watched “Momskey” have less and less control over her bodily functions. But even more heartbreaking was seeing her trapped inside her own confusing thought patterns as she struggled to find the words to express herself in a way that could be understood by me.
This breakdown in communications was the hardest blow! All I could do at times was hold her gently in my arms and silently weep as I asked God to give me His patience and compassion to face the ongoing and ever-increasing challenges of taking care of this dear lady who had become “my mom”.
Over the last year she was very confused at times and sometimes didn’t remember where she was. Sometimes she would talk about me in the third person, and I would become “that nice lady who helps me!” Thankfully, the delusions calmed down in the last 6 months. But the on-going struggle to try and make sense of what she was saying and bring her back from the land of oblivion into the world of reality was at times a minute by minute challenge.
I’m very thankful that the day never came when she no longer remembered who I was. There were moments, but then they would vanish and she would smile and say my name. But what was most important to me over this last year was that I would always remember who she was, and continue to treat her with the love and dignity and respect that she deserved.
Sometimes when she would forget my name, she would whistle for me. She had a great whistle. Lucy, my dog, would also respond to the whistle, so there would be two of us coming to Jean’s aide when she needed something. When she whistled songs she never missed a beat!
In her younger years Jean loved to dance with her husband. Amazingly the rhythm and beat of dancing aided her when she could no longer walk by herself. I would sing little ditties to her as I helped her from her chair to the bathroom like, “Row, row, row your boat", and "One two buckle your shoe." But “You are my sunshine” was her favorite.” She would sing along with me and keep in step to the rhythm of the song until she could no longer walk. Then she would whistle the tunes as she sat in her chair.
Right up to the last month of her life she was able to still hum or whistle, “Amazing Grace” whenever I played it! Worship songs were her favorite kind of music and I noticed that this peace would come over her face every time I played them. So I played them regularly, because the words brought her such comfort. Sometimes she looked like she was asleep, and then I would hear her humming or whistling a worship song that was playing softly.
When she needed to be in a hospital bed, I moved her into my office next to the kitchen where it was warmer and where I could play worship songs on my computer around the clock. Up to the very last day of her life even when she could no longer talk or respond to me, I knew she could hear the music.
The last few days of her life were very hard for me to go through because although she looked peaceful most of the time, I knew I was losing her, and that I was going to have to say goodbye to this lady who had become my Mom.
Christmas Eve about 1 am. I finally was able to release her to the Lord and say goodbye. I hadn’t been able to do it until that point in time because I didn’t want to let go. But I sensed it was time. I hugged her and cried and told her that I was letting her go to be with Jesus and that I would see her again soon at the Second Coming. Although she couldn’t respond, I knew she heard me.
About 1:30 am I went to bed intending to get up at 4 am and turn Jean over on her other side. But at 3 am my dog, Lucy, woke me up barking. After realizing that the dog didn’t need to go outside I immediately went to check on Jean. Initially, I panicked when I realized that her vitals had suddenly slowed down. So I took her in my arms and held her softly while I called Hospice.
Over the next five minutes her labored breathing became easier and easier until she finally took her last breathe in my arms. I had prayed that I might be there when Jean died, and God graciously answered my prayer my sending an angel to wake up Lucy!
Yes, I was heartbroken and wanted to revive her, but the look of peace on her face told me that her spirit had already left her body to be with God. Jean was no longer there… just her body. She had gone home!
Jean will always be my "Momskey "and I her "Daughterskey", because deep within our hearts was a bond of love that even this disease could not sever. Together, as mother and daughter, we bravely faced so many challenging days as we confronted the devastating effects of Alzheimer’s with the weapon of His love.
Now Momskey has been reunited with her husband, Chester, and her other daughter, Donna. She’s more alive in Christ now than she’s ever been. So although I’m sad about her leaving us, and I miss her terribly, I rejoice that she finished her journey here triumphantly.
"I’ll see you again Momskey when the trumpet sounds and the dead in Christ will rise first. I can hardly wait to hear you whistle again on that grand and glorious day!"
