My mom is having a tough go of it this last week or so. She forgot my father and their 60 year marriage a while back and while she would sometimes ask “did my husband die?” it had gotten to where she didn’t remember his name anymore either.  When I visited her over Christmas at dinner one evening she noticed she was wearing two wedding rings one on each hand and asked me if I knew why. I told her that she was wearing her wedding ring where she always had and that the one on her right hand had been my fathers. She wasn’t sure why she was wearing them but seemed to take comfort in doing so.
Then a few days ago she had a vivid dream shortly before I called one morning and it involved my father having been in an accident and her being told by the police that he was dead. She was so relieved to be awake and asked me what I thought about it. I had to tell her all over again that yes, he really was dead, and has been for five years. There’s nothing like having to break your mother‘s heart yet again before breakfast.
Today was one of the two days a week that I have an extra caregiver come over and take her out for a couple of hours to do something different/fun like a walk in the park or a drive to just look around, special lunch, whatever they want. Todays notes included the rings coming back up again in a way that made her sad and anxious because she couldn’t remember anything about their time together. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to know that you knew but can’t ever know again.
I talk to her every other day and every time it breaks my heart just a little more and then sometimes it’s a gut punch when you just don’t see it coming.