2009 “Give a Caregiver a Break” RUNNER-UP: PEGGY
"The Sand Dollar"
It has been fifteen years since I brought home a sand dollar from a relaxing summer vacation. Though other shells on the beach and in the shops displayed intricate markings and swirling curves, the sand dollar stood out to me as unique and desirable. Pure and white, it rattled when shaken. Legend says that inside are five tiny doves with a heavenly message. The shell must be broken for them to be released. All shells have the same story. Each once held life, living independently-either scampering or crawling along the ocean's floor. All are now empty -void of vitality, yet beautiful with many tales held tightly inside. Such is the story of my mother, Nell.
Once active, hard working, and caring, she is now a mere shell of the person she once was. Diagnosed with dementia, widowed, and entrusted to the care of her only child, she sleeps most days through without speaking. If taken for a car ride to see the desert blossoms, she closes her eyes. She knows nothing of the routine- the washings, hair trimmings and manicures, changings and laundry, paperwork and nurse's visits, meal preparations, vitamins, and those dreaded laxatives. Her only desires are the next meal and sleep. Although her room in our home is in Arizona, her mind still lingers in Illinois.
Occasionally, she experiences seizures and is lucid for a few hours. We time-travel through the decades. She calls me "her special Peggy" as we sit, picture albums in our laps, naming faces of people who have died long ago...but she doesn't know it. The past ten years are non-existent to her. She calls my husband her "best servant," and doesn't know the half of his sacrifice. She laughs and puts on jewelry. She requests favorite foods, eating them with gusto. When alert, she exclaims, "My, that looks good! Thank you!" My eyes tear up to hear a word of gratitude. Then she slowly slips back into unawareness. Silence returns. How many months will pass until she speaks again?
More serious and focused, my contemplations reach a wearied depth. Life is far from youthful visions of freedom, yet there is peaceful purpose as I determine to use time wisely, not growing resentful. I am a daughter as well as a wife and mother. I have nurtured children and released them. I have encouraged a husband and understand commitment. The present is a season of sequestering for mother and daughter. The ladies' group that comes to our home every Wednesday attests to the fact that Nellie enjoys the snacks they bring. They watch her deteriorate.
I understand that souls are alive within even though dementia holds them captive. I know as surely as sand on the shore exists, that some day her soul will be released like the sand dollar doves -- as will mine. And we will walk together in love still caring for each other -rejoicing that we've had many enchanting summers together.
—Peggy Stubstad, Fountain Hills, AZ
Winner of $500 of free respite care
from Home Instead Senior Care