(gentle music)
(air whooshing)
- Hi!
There's much you lose with Alzheimer's.
FaceTime, Zoom, all the different ways
that you can communicate, that doesn't work for my mom.
I can't write her a note, I can't call her.
None of that connects for her.
I love you, mom!
Skin to skin, that is what she reacts to,
we don't have that, that's all gone.
So, we have the window.
And I need her there.
I love you.
This is one of my favorite pictures from now.
There's never been as moment, in the last 10 years,
that she's needed something, and I haven't been the one
to stand next to her and hold her hand.
(birds tweeting)
I understand it.
This time of sheltering in place, of locking down,
to keep the virus out from there,
because it's deadly to them.
But if it came to the point where she
was going to pass and she would be alone?
I just can't even imagine that.
I'm making chicken and noodles today
because it's someone's birthday
and this is what they picked for their birthday dinner.
And that's what mom would always do for us.
She was an unbelievable grandma.
There isn't a game that one of her grandchildren played,
or a band, or choir, or dance recital.
If it was happening, grandma was there.
This necklace here has her favorite saying on it,
that she got from her mom.
"Love you more."
And she would say it, when you'd be leaving,
and you'd be, "I love you, mom!"
It was always, "Love you more!"
I don't know if it's true
with every person with Alzheimer's,
but when you meet my mom,
you really are meeting who she always was.
She has cared for people with a joy that is unexplainable.
Selfishly one of the reasons I go
and visit my mom so often is that,
that's how I keep myself in her memory.
Another loss, in all those who have loss
is that Alzheimer's brings, is that when this is over,
I would just end up being to her, a caregiver.
And I'll gladly be her caregiver.
But I really like being her daughter.
And I wouldn't wanna lose that.
We were just driving one day
and I just missed her, and I just needed to see her.
And I know where she's usually sitting
at that time of the day.
And I asked my husband, I'm like,
"Could we just drive and see if we can see her?"
We walked up to the window and there she was!
She hopped up and came over to the window
and just immediately started
like we were in the hallway talking.
Hi, I love you!
And she's smiling, and she's waving,
and she started dancing,
and it's like there is no window there.
It just really calmed me and made me know that's she's okay.
I hope that when we visit and when we come to the window--
- Love you! - I hope that
somehow it connects to mom
that her people haven't forgotten her.
How are you today?
That we didn't go away or disappear.
That she is still loved.
This is just hard and to know it's hard for everybody.
And I know what my mom would tell me,
"Just trust that God has it taken care of,
"and I'm gonna be okay, and you'll be okay."
(gentle music)