I can close my eyes and picture the three friends. Dementia places so many in nursing homes for years. If we see the cuts they are predicting, where will they go...?
My mother has dementia. It is a cruel fate. The 3 women's bond you wrote about is sweet. I too have seen bonds happen in the two care facilities where my mother has been. The bonds are the last to deteriorate and heartbreaking to watch fade as each person fades from the disease. I am sorry about your mother. Peace for your heart.
Yes, it is heartbreaking to witness their decline. When my husband and I used to call BINGO at another nursing home, one could see the slide from week to week. One week, someone was there, and the next, we were told, "It was her time." So sad!
What a beautiful thing you were able to witness. My experience witnessing dementia with old aunts and two young friends were always isolating and terribly sad. The 3 ladies were gifts for each other and those around them
Thank you, Ilona, for this lovely, meaningful story. I am so sorry for the heartbreak you experienced at the loss of your mother to this dreadful disease. Dementia has struck some members of my own family as well as the families and spouses of several close friends. It is terribly painful to watch andyet be unable to bring comfort to those affected. It may sound dispassionate to say so, but when we came into this world we did not do so with an instruction manual. Nor were we promised that life, let alone death would be easy. Knowing that alone should give us strength to face the challenges that we must. I wish you much strength in the years that lie ahead.
Thanks, Ilene. Dementia is a dreaded disease. I hope and pray I don't get it, but like you said, we have minimal choice as to what our deaths will look like.
It’s certainly not a disease anyone would wish to have. But for the sufferer, oddly enough it can be a blessing to forget about the pain of the negative things one has experienced. My mother, who was very ill for many years before she died once told me that she is not afraid of death rather she hoped that it would not be a painful one.
My father-in-law was in a dementia unit of a nursing home too. Every time we visited him, it was an experience. The other women were quite fond of him. One in particular had to be frequently distracted and led away or the conversation would get quite “racy”. The interactions ranged from some being friends, as you described, to non-interactive. I often wondered just how much they actually understood though. Thank you for sharing your story.
I wonder the same. When I spoke to my mother, she always had the same blank look. The worst part about going was seeing my mother's deterioration, while I was uplifted by the others who were always friendly and kept me entertained. You really do have to embrace the bright spots. I'm reminded now of a Polish lady named Catherine who spoke to me only in Polish. Somehow, I knew she cared about my mother and was giving me a full report.
I love this! I witnessed a myriad of assisted living/memory care relationships while visiting my parents and in-laws. It seemed to me to be a lot like middle school! A lively old gal once told my husband that he had "nice gams" and he then refused to ever wear shorts while visiting. I told him he was depriving the ladies of the nice view. Glad to count YOU as a new friend!
OMG! You're husband wouldn't have lasted 2 minutes at my mom's place. Those ladies were hot to trot. Full transparency: If I ever meet your husband, I will be checking out his gams.
THANK YOU, friend. Appreciate your presence in my life.
One of my favorite television shows was "Golden Girls." The women were all so different but forged an unlikely friendship under the same roof. As I watched their antics, I often thought that seemed so ideal...live under the same roof with other elderly women and become unlikely friends. Great story, Ilona.
I found myself chuckling at the descriptions of Rita's ski sweater in August and Carmella's 14K gold jewelry. It's fascinating how, even as dementia altered their reality, their individual personalities and former selves still shone through in these unique ways. Rita, the former fashion model, still had her signature "haute couture," albeit a transformed version. Carmella, the "quintessential Italian matriarch," still projected her regal presence with her accessories.
It's a beautiful, albeit sometimes humorous, reminder that our core essence, our individual spirit, can be incredibly resilient. Even when the mind changes, these echoes of who we were, and perhaps who we still are at a deeper level, persist. It highlights the importance of honoring and cherishing these unique traits in ourselves and others, no matter the circumstances.
I can close my eyes and picture the three friends. Dementia places so many in nursing homes for years. If we see the cuts they are predicting, where will they go...?
The frail and most vulnerable will suffer the most with this big (not) beautiful bill. It's such a disgrace.
My mother has dementia. It is a cruel fate. The 3 women's bond you wrote about is sweet. I too have seen bonds happen in the two care facilities where my mother has been. The bonds are the last to deteriorate and heartbreaking to watch fade as each person fades from the disease. I am sorry about your mother. Peace for your heart.
Yes, it is heartbreaking to witness their decline. When my husband and I used to call BINGO at another nursing home, one could see the slide from week to week. One week, someone was there, and the next, we were told, "It was her time." So sad!
Molto bene!
What a beautiful thing you were able to witness. My experience witnessing dementia with old aunts and two young friends were always isolating and terribly sad. The 3 ladies were gifts for each other and those around them
Yes, it was beautiful. I agree that we are more apt to see the opposite scenario than this one.
That was such a beautiful story. It reminded me of my Mom who had mild cognitive impairment. She died in March. Your words moved me. Thank you❣️
I'm sorry for your loss, Teresa. Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment 🤍
This warmed my heart, made me giggle, and brought a smile to my face. Great and beautiful story!!
Thanks, Maureen! Those ladies were pretty feisty.
Thank you, Ilona, for this lovely, meaningful story. I am so sorry for the heartbreak you experienced at the loss of your mother to this dreadful disease. Dementia has struck some members of my own family as well as the families and spouses of several close friends. It is terribly painful to watch andyet be unable to bring comfort to those affected. It may sound dispassionate to say so, but when we came into this world we did not do so with an instruction manual. Nor were we promised that life, let alone death would be easy. Knowing that alone should give us strength to face the challenges that we must. I wish you much strength in the years that lie ahead.
Thanks, Ilene. Dementia is a dreaded disease. I hope and pray I don't get it, but like you said, we have minimal choice as to what our deaths will look like.
It’s certainly not a disease anyone would wish to have. But for the sufferer, oddly enough it can be a blessing to forget about the pain of the negative things one has experienced. My mother, who was very ill for many years before she died once told me that she is not afraid of death rather she hoped that it would not be a painful one.
My father-in-law was in a dementia unit of a nursing home too. Every time we visited him, it was an experience. The other women were quite fond of him. One in particular had to be frequently distracted and led away or the conversation would get quite “racy”. The interactions ranged from some being friends, as you described, to non-interactive. I often wondered just how much they actually understood though. Thank you for sharing your story.
I wonder the same. When I spoke to my mother, she always had the same blank look. The worst part about going was seeing my mother's deterioration, while I was uplifted by the others who were always friendly and kept me entertained. You really do have to embrace the bright spots. I'm reminded now of a Polish lady named Catherine who spoke to me only in Polish. Somehow, I knew she cared about my mother and was giving me a full report.
I love this! I witnessed a myriad of assisted living/memory care relationships while visiting my parents and in-laws. It seemed to me to be a lot like middle school! A lively old gal once told my husband that he had "nice gams" and he then refused to ever wear shorts while visiting. I told him he was depriving the ladies of the nice view. Glad to count YOU as a new friend!
OMG! You're husband wouldn't have lasted 2 minutes at my mom's place. Those ladies were hot to trot. Full transparency: If I ever meet your husband, I will be checking out his gams.
THANK YOU, friend. Appreciate your presence in my life.
Beautiful story. Especially in reference to the caretakers. Thank you for your post!
The caretakers in these homes are saintly. Thanks for reading, Valerie!
One of my favorite television shows was "Golden Girls." The women were all so different but forged an unlikely friendship under the same roof. As I watched their antics, I often thought that seemed so ideal...live under the same roof with other elderly women and become unlikely friends. Great story, Ilona.
I have considered what it would be like to share a home with friends in my older years. I think it would be great fun! #girlpower
I found myself chuckling at the descriptions of Rita's ski sweater in August and Carmella's 14K gold jewelry. It's fascinating how, even as dementia altered their reality, their individual personalities and former selves still shone through in these unique ways. Rita, the former fashion model, still had her signature "haute couture," albeit a transformed version. Carmella, the "quintessential Italian matriarch," still projected her regal presence with her accessories.
It's a beautiful, albeit sometimes humorous, reminder that our core essence, our individual spirit, can be incredibly resilient. Even when the mind changes, these echoes of who we were, and perhaps who we still are at a deeper level, persist. It highlights the importance of honoring and cherishing these unique traits in ourselves and others, no matter the circumstances.
I read and loved this post the first time you wrote it, Ilona, and I love it just as much now.