Alzheimer’s Daughter introduces the reader to my healthy parents, Ed and Ibby, years before their diagnosis, then recounts painful details as our roles reversed and I became my parents’ parent.
Their disease started as translucent, confused thoughts and ended in a locked memory care unit after a near decade of descent into the opaque world of Alzheimer's.
I began writing Alzheimer’s Daughter one week after my mother's death––when I was stunned, realizing Dad had no memory of her or their 66-year marriage.
I write to pay tribute to the undying spirit at Ed and Ibby's core, and with the hope that the story of their parallel decline might be helpful to others.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
When I was a girl our yard became a field of yellow in May.
I remember walking gingerly in bare feet strategically placing each foot in a space with no honeybees. You could actually hear what sounded like the grass buzzing from all the bees.
I was allergic to honeybees. I remember telling Mom and Dad that I could live without honey if only there were no bees. They explained that we needed honeybees to make everything grow.
Now we see few dandelions and few honeybees. We believe a lush green lawn is the norm.
How different our way of life is now. We don't adapt to what nature gives us. We try to alter nature.
Mom said, "God gave us so many dandelions. They must be a cure for something. We just don't know what, yet."
She thought maybe dandelions could cancer. But wouldn't it be wonderful if the bright, beautiful dandelion could cure Alzheimer's?