Indelible imprints

I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death.  They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make.  Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories.  We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love. – Leo Buscaglia

The beautiful October tree

A moment remembering happier times
in her "new" home - her treasured best
friend helped the journey!  

This week I drove by and I didn't feel guilty about not stopping at the memory care facility.  A tear didn't pass, and a sense of peace overcame me knowing I had passed yet another milestone in this phase of grief.  While fall  is my favorite season, it also marks lots of memories of very challenging times in my life during the fall season.  Years ago in October blessed me with the first time experiencing going through the death of a loved one.  As we held my step-father's hand, we watched and waited patiently for the natural process to unfold.  Watching as the leaves slowly fell each day from the beautiful maple tree, we had the time to share memories, share love and to say goodbye which was the beginning of the healing process.  While saying goodbye to her spouse, I remember my mom being so incredibly brave to go through that process, and then to be all alone at the end of it.  While she continued on she appeared to be taking care of herself.  Slowly we watched changes in her that should have been signs that things weren't really okay.  In retrospect, they are clear.  Three years later at the same time of year, she had a stroke that changed her future.  The stroke unfortunately added dementia into the mix.  While that complicated her life, it also complicated our lives as well.  The normal aging process is hard enough as it is, but when the person no longer comprehends why they can't be who they were before adds a new twist to things.  The memories of independence keep mixing in and out and the frustrations make it even more challenging.  While I learned so much over the years with her dementia, to say it wasn't challenging is an understatement.  We were able to figure out things and get her back into a simple routine in her own home for a year.  She gave up her independence of driving, and she enjoyed the role of passenger as we went about life.  A year later, the decline was simply too much and a fall in the tub lead to the moment we had all been waiting for - her own admission to move to safer surroundings.  A hospitalization and nursing home visit, leading to her new home in a memory care facility.  We had visited a couple places together, and she chose one.  Thinking all was well, and that she was okay with the new plans, leaving the nursing home we drove directly to her new home.  It was a beautiful October day.  Reality set in, and this new strange "home" wasn't what she wanted.  I remember that dreaded day when she told me with anger and tears, "I hate you, you ungrateful daughter, how can you do this to me?"  Realizing to myself, with her dementia, she couldn't remember that she had agreed to this move.  After many tries to say, "You chose this place."  I could only think of one way to reply to her.  I replied, "I'm sorry mom, but you are here because I failed you and couldn't keep you safe at home."   The admission of my guilt gave her a slight recognition of my ungratefulness she needed.  We both cried, but at the end of that day, there was simply no consoling her.  I knew I had to leave so she could attempt to settle in.  Walking out that day was very hard.  Leaving her behind in the safe keeping of strangers.  They reassured me that this is a normal part of the process, yet it was very hard.  I thought to myself, yeah, right...the guilt was horrific!  Time did heal, and thankfully with her dementia, that wasn't a day she remembered.  I kept the faith through all that time.  It was the right decision and her safety was what mattered more.  She remembered love for me more than she hated me during the early days of that transition and her continued time there.  Our time at the end of her journey 6 months ago reassures me of the bond our love held for us.  I thanked her for trusting me during our long journey of goodbye.  We learned a lot about each other and the memories of that time are true treasures for me.  Healing does take time, but it does come in phases.
While life marches on and the seasons continue changing I'm reminded of how the quote above is really true.  There is such comfort in knowing and remembering shared love with someone who is no longer here.  For the person as they leave us, it is reassurance, and for those left behind it is comfort.  I'm reminded to never be afraid to take a journey of sharing love with someone.