Mostly, I am comforted by the good and kind and loving thoughts of years when she cared for me, without reservation and the time while I did the same in return. Some of the less desirable thoughts creep in from time to time, but usually only the good has remained these past 24 years since my mama died. That is to say, only rarely do I have sad recollections about my mama. Mostly, I remember her sweet smile and the way she loved everyone and everybody loved her. I can still feel her hug and hear her voice. And I know that she is near and I’ll see her again.

Just remember; all you can do is all you can do. Try always to keep in mind who she is inside and treat her with the love and respect she deserves, as being your mama. She may not seem the same as she used to be, but in the wide scale of things, she will return and even when it seems she does not know you, she knows you love her.

There were times when I didn’t know how to deal with any of it, but I’m so glad I did because I know my mama got the very best care anyone could have given her. I believe your mama is getting the same.

Hang in there and if you need to talk or if I can offer any advice or help, I’m here. My virtual arms are wrapped in love around you and you and your family are now in my thoughts and my prayers forever.

~ Yaya

My grandmother was a Nurse’s Aid and worked as a caregiver in the home of a woman suffering from Alzheimer’s very badly. The woman had been a friend of my grandmother’s before her condition deteriorated her. My grandmother would fight with her to eat, to bathe and to change her bed sheets. My grandmother would read to her. My grandmother would look at her and say, “I remember how she used to be.” Like I said, the truth isn’t always pretty…especially not on the surface. But love has so many disguises and incarnations that you need to remember to look deeply at things in order to see the love and affection hidden beneath the work and the frustration.

You are fantastic.

She also was a hospice nurse for 20 years and darn good at it.

I had just spent a stressful week that included cleaning out the garage–which included some hard days of saying “Mama, is this keep, use, toss?” and this was hard on both of us. What do you do with the commemorative mug for my sister’s college graduation a few years ago? The one we get constant Sally Mae calls about paying for the education, to earn the mug, despite endless paperwork explaining that my sister is incapable of paying anything on it because she is in a nursing home and won’t ever work?

How do you say to your mother that the scrapbooks from her childhood were ruined by garage flooding? (you don’t but you brood on it yourself because you didn’t know they were out there and that would be something to share with the kids.) Why is the weird ugly thing you never saw before opening the box saved but the blue glass cruet that lived on your kitchen windowsill your entire childhood something she says toss?

Yes, it is better than worrying long-distance. Way better.