She's Dead But Alive

The meeting that will terrorize any adult child:  "Your parent has Alzheimer's".  That one is a life defining moment on so many different levels.  You wonder everything from where to place this person for care to the last time you couldn't remember something - it's a demon that keeps on giving.  It's genetic and the selfish, but real, response is, "Am I carrying this poison, too?"  We placed my Mom (we now call her "Betty", because we lost our Mom that day) into a designer care home.  No matter how you spin it, she's in lockdown.  A prisoner in her own mind.   On my first visit, the perky PR lady said she wanted to introduce me to my new family.  I looked around the dining room and the ones who weren't asleep were trying to escape.  Oxygen Tank man kept screaming "Help me" at the top of his lungs.  Bad use of the oxygen, I thought.  Executive Lady wears her trench coat, carries her empty suitcase, and stands by the elevator telling everyone she has to leave immediately for an important meeting.  A few actually eat their food that's served; some throw it; and others don't know what to do with it.  If it were only "Animal House II", it would be hilarious.  I pretend I'm at a cocktail party and don't know anyone and walk around introducing myself.  I believe the experts would correctly diagnose me as being in denial.  I came home and cried for two days, which is likely the beginning of the acceptance of hell.  Each of those persons had enjoyed full lives, careers, spouses, children, and passions and this was how it all ended.  I would give anything to change that for them, and then the powerlessness of it all becomes a reality.  If I could see this enemy, I could act.  I'm now a regular and I rely on my old friend - humor - to relate to these strange and childlike creatures who have settled into a time and place in their lives that was way back when and they had hope and promise and life was so much kinder to them.  My naturally generous heart and spirit have been put to the test of some triathalon for humanity.  So many of these "residents" never have visitors; several of them think I'm their daughter (who can't bear to see them like this, so she doesn't come); and there's a bond being forged among the few of us who have risen above our limitations.  I've dubbed the trio who walk around giggling and holding hands, "The Maguire Sisters".  Cerebral me thought that might jog a neuron or a dendrite or connect a synapse or something.  Wrong.  But, the gifts of dignity and respect and a smile are worthy endeavors which touch everyone's world,  irrespective of which one you're living in at the moment.  And, at times, I'm even envious - the planet is so twisted that being impervious to it all would be a gift.