My mom has taken a step down again in her journey into dementia. I see these shifts, she will get worse, plateau and then the whole downward process takes another dip into that irretrievable place in her mind. It is sad and frustrating because each phase takes us into another more complex living situation.

Her recent slip has been an accelerated loss of word finding and comprehension. We will be having a conversation and she will ask me to repeat a simple word because she doesn’t understand what I am trying to say. Same goes for her saying something back to me as she will search for a word, knowing the one she is using is wrong and it turns into charades at times trying to get me to guess what she is trying to communicate.

But through it all the humor that has been mother’s hallmark personality trait stays constant. Here are a few gems that made me laugh and remind me that sometimes the confusion is not just on one side:

One morning Mom kept trying to get out of bed to begin her day starting at 5:00 a.m. I would wake up each time and suggest she go back to bed and try to get some more sleep (translation, I wanted more sleep) and each time she complied.  By the 4th time in one hour she attempted to start her day, I finally relented and said in exasperation “Well Mom you might as well get up since this is the 4th time you have tried in an hour.” Mom leveled a steady gaze at me and asked “How many times do people usually try?”

Mother is always cold in the mornings, so her routine is to come out into the living room rubbing her arms and saying “Chilly, chilly.” I then go retrieve a sweater for her and she puts it on gratefully and sits down to read her newspaper. One this morning Mom came out of her room rubbing her arms as usual but saying “Shitty, shitty.” I replied, “No mom you mean chilly, chilly. It is a bit cold in here.”  Mom said, “Yes it is a bit shitty in here.” I corrected her again, “I think you mean chilly, it is a little cold in this room.” She looked outside through the window in the living room, at the overcast gray sky and replied “Yes it is cold but it is also shitty out too!”

Mom will often comment about her aches and pains in the morning and ask me with great concern, “Did something happen to me?  I hurt all over.” I will gently ask her what hurts and she will answer her back or her arm, etc. I usually answer that nothing happened to her and offer to get her a Tylenol to relieve the pain. One morning she began her complaints and I again told her nothing happened to her but this time added, “And Mom you are 82 years old, so your bones do get achy.” She replied, “So what, eighty- two isn’t that old.” I looked at her and said, “Well I guess it is all relative.” She commented, “Whats my family got to do with it?”

Mom was sitting in her chair,  reached to put on her glasses and then turned to me sitting in the chair next to her and asked, “Where is that thing I like?” I knew she meant the morning newspaper, so I pointed to that mornings edition sitting right in front of her on the ottoman and answered, “Your paper is right there.”  She looked at me confused and said “My lapar?” I repeated, “No Mom your paper” and again pointed to it. She looked around the room and said with a bit more exasperation “Caper?” Now a bit frustrated I said “Mom your paper, your paper!” as I am stabbing at the air in the direction of the paper lying at her feet. Now mom is annoyed and looked at me and says a bit more loudly, “Rapper?”  With more irritation than I should have shown, I got up from my chair and grabbed the paper and placed it in her lap, and unfairly let my frustration out on this poor woman with dementia, repeating, “Paper! Paper Mom, not rapper! Gosh sometimes I think you must have a hearing problem.” She picked up the newspaper and looked up at me and said “Well clearly I am not the only one!”