As I talk to my mother since my father’s death in mid May, I get a bigger picture of what he was like in the last months before he died. He had Alzheimer’s. I don’t know all that much about the disease, other than what I have seen portrayed in movies and on TV and in novels so some of the things she has told me are surprising to me.
He forgot so many things, but at the end of visits, he would ask when his sons were going to come visit him. he would ask for them by name: Carlos, Richard, and David. All three of his sons preceded him in death, but he forgot. What is interesting to me is that he remembered that he had sons even when he forgot everything else.
He forgot who my mother was. As they sat and talked about their children and their pasts, my father found it funny that they both had 7 children, 3 sons and 4 daughters, and that his kids’ names were the same as her kids’ names. She would try to explain to him that the reason was that his children were also her children but he didn’t get it. He found it funny that they had lived in the same cities and on the same streets and never met!
In the end, he forgot how to speak English. He spoke only Spanish.
And the one thing he never forgot was the name of his children. He remembered all of our names: Carlos, Richard, David, Sylvia, Corina, Irene, and Gilda. Even in the last couple of weeks, when he could barely speak, he was asking for each of us by name and wanting to see us.
In the end, his mind was clear. His memory was back. He knew who my mom was. He knew who my sisters were. And he knew that I could not come to see him because of my illness. I’m glad he knew that much. I would hate it if he had died thinking that I did not want to see him. It’s bad enough that I could not be there. At least he knew and understood that I could not be there.
I think it was an wonderful blessed gift he remembered clearly at the end.
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Ah, bitter sweet in knowing. But then, knowing he remembered you and, in the end, why you weren’t there, I’m sure gives your heart some peace.
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It’s a wonderful thing that you can have these conversations with your mother; it must comfort her as well to tell you the stories.
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I hope so. I know with me, I need to tell the stories but I don’t have anyone to tell so I use the blog to let them go. It helps me and maybe it will help others in some small way.
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It’s a wonderful gift that he was clear at the end—and also a gift that he was still able to speak. I’m really glad for you and for him that he was able to understand why you weren’t able to visit.
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He was able to speak until the last time they visited him, the day before he died. At that visit he kept blinking his eyes and seemed to be very anxious to say something to my mother but he couldn’t speak anymore.
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I’m very sad for you and what you’ve endured in the past few months.
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Thank you. It is a lot to go through. At times it hits me and I can’t believe that all of this has happened. It’s like a dream that I wake from once in a while.
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Thinking of you… Here is something to keep your mind occupied (maybe) a little bit: https://amommasview.wordpress.com/2015/06/11/love-it-hate-it/
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Thank you. I did see that post. I will do it. Probably Friday, if not it will be within a few days.
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No rush at all.
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I find it interesting you mentioned your dad spoke only Spanish at the end. When my mom had a stroke she was the same way. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see him on last time. Thanks for sharing this. : )
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I can definitely understand being comforted about his knowing ending, but that’s got its own element of sadness to it. Beautiful piece, Corina, thanks for sharing.
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I am so sorry for your pain…my grandmother recently passed because of her battle with alzheimers…it is hard and painful.
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Interesting that you wrote this touching account of your father’s recent passing on June 10th. June 10th is my mother’s birthday and we buried her this week. Whatever the circumstances, losing a parent is not an easy transition. I wish you and your family peace with his passing.
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