The Anniversary

I spoke to my Father a couple of days ago. He called me to tell me that he had gone to talk Mama out for their sixty-sith wedding anniversary. Sixty-six years. They still love each other as deeply as ever, even more with each passing day. Since My Mam had to enter the Memory Care Facility, Me Father has been simply doing the best he can, trying to do right by her and by everyone who loves her. For a while, the effects of COVID and dementia and exhaustion from living with all of that made Mama quite vague. We thought we were going to lose her.

But we didn’t.

Me Mother turned a corner, she got out of bed, she started working with a physical therapist, she began to be more active, she began to make the most of what was available to her. She became lucid and active and everyone noticed. It was a blessing and a joy to see her return to herself.

It was also a travesty because Mama is now so alert that she knows she isn’t at home. She knows she is compromised. She knows she isn’t in her home, she knows she isn’t with Daddy, she knows she isn’t with her family.

Sometimes Mama says to Daddy, “I miss you. When can I come home? … You aren’t saying anything, and that means I can’t come home.” And we cry. He cries. I cry. And we get on with it. This is the trial of having a loved one with dementia.

For their sixty-sixth anniversary, Me Father took My Mam to get her hair done, then he took her for a long lunch in a seafood restaurant, where she ordered two different dishes made of shrimp. Mama loves shrimp. You can bet they don’t have the budget for shrimp at the Memory Care Facility. Daddy told me it was a good day, a really good day, one that lasted three hours. He got to have three hours with his girl. And it made him happy, and he wanted to tell me about it.

I smiled when I listened to the story. I cried when I hung up the phone.

These people, these two wonderful people, so in love, so very much in love… I don’t believe in god. If I had believed in god, the dementia experience with my Mother would have changed that.

Nevertheless, I celebrate their sixty-six years, their love, and the love story that is so uniquely theirs.

(Below, see photos from pages of My Mam’s wedding scrapbook.)

It was a real whirlwind romance.

Me Mother’s Mother, Marjorie.

Me Father’s parents were not able to attend.

My Grandfather was very late to the wedding - he was picking up a whole pig that was roasted for the reception. By the time he got there, My Mam was more than a little angry, and it showed.