So much of this sounds familiar. My mother, who is going to be 100 this year, suffers from dementia. She doesn't speak "word salad", but the other day, my brother and I were visiting her and talking to each other. She frowned and snapped at us, "Are you speaking Chinese? I can't understand a word you're saying." I look for the light that once lit up this vibrant woman but, honestly, it's harder and harder to find. Thanks for sharing.
Yes, we experienced similar with my dad, who in earlier times was a gregarious man who couldn’t resist any opportunity to tell a story or give a speech, and in Alzheimer’s became mostly silent. It can be such a brutal disease. Sending my best to you and your family, Linda. I’m glad you shared this.
Thanks so much, Wendy. It is a great song, isn’t it? I don’t often get texted voice notes (other than the accidental ones we all seem to occasionally send) so I loved hearing my sister sing this half-remembered snippet.
I read somewhere that it’s called paradoxical lucidity. There wasn’t much of it in the final days, but I treasure the little bits we had. Thank you, as always, for your lovely comment. I’ve been offline for a while this summer, but am looking forward to catching up on your writing. Hope life’s been treating you well.
Thanks so much, Rona. We were away visiting my family in Australia, and I took a long break. Looking forward to catching up on your writing. Hope your summer's been treating you well!
Hi Rob, a very touching post, more directly relevant to me than expected. My sister (and only sibling), 10-years older than me, is now in the throws of Alzheimer's disease. My memory has always been bad regarding names, places, etc., but oddly enough, was razor sharp during my working years in a technical field. So I don't know what to make of it. I too thought about seeing with a test might show, but I think I know the answer, and either way, not sure what difference it would make. For unrelated reasons (my wife's RA diagnosis 20 years ago), we've switched to a very healthy, fully plant-based diet, and feel all-the-better for it. I also stopped drinking quite a few years ago. Yet, nothing that medicine has come up with yet (as far as I know), can beat back dementia if that is the hand I've been dealt.
Also like you, I would have called myself a strong atheist, although my practical father said to me at 16 or 17 when I told him that, "Steve, 85% of Americans believe in God, so tell anyone that asks that you're Agnostic" (hehe). Happily, I've been very naturally been pulled into the orbit of spirituality, gone on many 10-day Vipassana retreats, and would have to say now am strongly resonating with the non-dual teachers (Mooji, Francis Lucille, etc). And I'm a fan of the Telepathy Tapes, which have kept opening me up, so that I have become unrecognizable to my teenage self.
This journey is nothing if not fascinating. And yet we seem to only skim the surface in our day-to-day lives of what is truly important, consequential, and possibly revalatory. Thank you for sharing your story and insights. It's a pleasure to read your words.
Oh, Steven, I know how hard these diagnoses are. Sending my very best to you and your sister.
Like you, I've stopped drinking, and don't miss it. I also love reading nondual teachings, and really anything that delivers that feeling of expansiveness, which always comes as a relief. I'm glad that we're both unrecognizable to our teenage selves.
Thank you for reading, and for sharing all of this. It means a great deal to me.
I love the idea that light always comes in no matter what.
Thank you, Deirdre. Me too. It's thirty-something years since my friend said that to me, and I think of it often.
Simply brilliant. Like life itself. Thank you, Rob.
Thank you so much, Dave. What a lovely thing to say. I really appreciate your sharing it, as well.
So much of this sounds familiar. My mother, who is going to be 100 this year, suffers from dementia. She doesn't speak "word salad", but the other day, my brother and I were visiting her and talking to each other. She frowned and snapped at us, "Are you speaking Chinese? I can't understand a word you're saying." I look for the light that once lit up this vibrant woman but, honestly, it's harder and harder to find. Thanks for sharing.
Yes, we experienced similar with my dad, who in earlier times was a gregarious man who couldn’t resist any opportunity to tell a story or give a speech, and in Alzheimer’s became mostly silent. It can be such a brutal disease. Sending my best to you and your family, Linda. I’m glad you shared this.
Aha! The Passenger is one of my favourite songs, but I didn’t get it from the word carpenter!
I hate losing words, but try not to panic and, like you, focus on healthy habits.
Very touched by your memories of conversations with your mother. Those surprise moments of lucidity.
Thanks so much, Wendy. It is a great song, isn’t it? I don’t often get texted voice notes (other than the accidental ones we all seem to occasionally send) so I loved hearing my sister sing this half-remembered snippet.
I read somewhere that it’s called paradoxical lucidity. There wasn’t much of it in the final days, but I treasure the little bits we had. Thank you, as always, for your lovely comment. I’ve been offline for a while this summer, but am looking forward to catching up on your writing. Hope life’s been treating you well.
Welcome back, Rob. I’m glad to be your passenger this morning.
Thanks so much, Rona. We were away visiting my family in Australia, and I took a long break. Looking forward to catching up on your writing. Hope your summer's been treating you well!
Hi Rob, a very touching post, more directly relevant to me than expected. My sister (and only sibling), 10-years older than me, is now in the throws of Alzheimer's disease. My memory has always been bad regarding names, places, etc., but oddly enough, was razor sharp during my working years in a technical field. So I don't know what to make of it. I too thought about seeing with a test might show, but I think I know the answer, and either way, not sure what difference it would make. For unrelated reasons (my wife's RA diagnosis 20 years ago), we've switched to a very healthy, fully plant-based diet, and feel all-the-better for it. I also stopped drinking quite a few years ago. Yet, nothing that medicine has come up with yet (as far as I know), can beat back dementia if that is the hand I've been dealt.
Also like you, I would have called myself a strong atheist, although my practical father said to me at 16 or 17 when I told him that, "Steve, 85% of Americans believe in God, so tell anyone that asks that you're Agnostic" (hehe). Happily, I've been very naturally been pulled into the orbit of spirituality, gone on many 10-day Vipassana retreats, and would have to say now am strongly resonating with the non-dual teachers (Mooji, Francis Lucille, etc). And I'm a fan of the Telepathy Tapes, which have kept opening me up, so that I have become unrecognizable to my teenage self.
This journey is nothing if not fascinating. And yet we seem to only skim the surface in our day-to-day lives of what is truly important, consequential, and possibly revalatory. Thank you for sharing your story and insights. It's a pleasure to read your words.
Oh, Steven, I know how hard these diagnoses are. Sending my very best to you and your sister.
Like you, I've stopped drinking, and don't miss it. I also love reading nondual teachings, and really anything that delivers that feeling of expansiveness, which always comes as a relief. I'm glad that we're both unrecognizable to our teenage selves.
Thank you for reading, and for sharing all of this. It means a great deal to me.
What a beautiful Post, as always.