Check in on mom and return the love

 

Wayne Dawkins/Commentary                           

5/07/2007

HOLLYWOOD, Florida – Iris Dawkins chewed heartily on tuna salad on crackers, plus lettuce and tomato I led to her mouth. Mom did better than many of her co-residents at the assisted living home here.

 

Mom made incomplete motions with her hands in an earnest attempt to feed herself. Advancing dementia robbed her of independence.

As Mother’s Day approaches, I reflect on the stage in my son-parent relationship in which I say “the long goodbye.”

 

That feeding time during a March visit could have felt depressing to this oldest Dawkins son, but instead the encounter felt like a blessing. Mom smiled contentedly as chaos mixed with chilling silence orbited her.

 

In the secure room, one senior citizen walked from table to table shouting incoherent demands. She had to be calmed several times by a caregiver. Another woman had to be coaxed out of pulling down her disposable undergarments.

 

Moreover, about half of the two dozen residents in the room stared at their lunches; they would have to wait until the handful of caregivers could make time to feed them, as I had done with my mother.

 

 

Dementia disproportionately

affects African-Americans

14 to 100-percent more than whites.

 

 

I was relieved to see Mom at peace, smiling contentedly, while others appeared to battle demons from their pasts.

 

I’ve stopped fooling myself however. Dementia has stolen more of Mom’s memory. Unlike a year ago, I can’t say with certainty she recognizes me as a son. More likely, I’m a vague family member or friend who means no harm.

 

It’s funny what mom does remember. She can’t maintain a 15-second conversation, yet her mood brightened some more when an O’Jays ballad piped from an attendant’s radio that was tuned to the jammin’ oldies station.

 

Mom can share laughs with many of the caregivers who come from the Caribbean. They chat about distinct tropical foods or customs and affirm each other.

 

Boy, if Mom were more mentally with it, she would so enjoy the Port Royal, Jamaica exhibit I visited in Miami. Port Royal was the seaport that crumbled into the sea during an earthquake at the end of the 1600s.

 

Had it been a few years sooner, mom could brief me on my reconnect with “Uncle Fitz,” a family friend or relative who looked me up after being out of touch for 40 years.

 

Alas, a few opportunities were missed. But that’s OK.

 

Fellow Baby Boomers, keep a close eye on your aging parents, favorite aunts and uncles. Check on them regularly and look for signs when they are struggling to care for themselves.

 

Alzheimer’s disease and other forms of dementia afflict at least five million Americans, according to the Alzheimer’s Association www.alz.org , and the affliction disproportionately affects African-Americans 14 to 100 percent more than whites.

 

For everyone, dementia is on the rise because we are living longer, and we are getting better at diagnosing the affliction.

 

Remember how mothers cared for you.

Return the love.