The other notebook
No, not the one I have taken to writing in under the instruction of the @blogmistress. Not the computer one that I use to read twitter when in bed.
- Image by Alicakes* via Flickr
The film. The Notebook.
Have you seen it? it’s a love story, a story of old age and what happens to that love. Do you remember your first love? How you met? your first kiss? your first argument? your first child? all the firsts you achieve, together. The grand passion. They make up a lifetime of memories.
What happens when just one of you remembers?
I watch my own, live ‘Notebook’.
My ex mother in law has Alzheimers and she recently moved into a care home. The home is exactly as I imagined, bright colours, assistants everywhere and it’s bland. I don’t know if it’s meant to be that way, it reminds me of a pre-school but without the bright paintings. It’s not unpleasant, it has a garden, a gazebo and is planted with shrubs.
The impact on my former father in law has been immense. After 55 years of marriage, he’s living on his own again. He’s a strong bloke and at 80 years old, every day he drives to to the home and helps her out. He helps her put on her make up and talks to her about what is going on. Encourages her to eat, to drink. It’s hard to watch, you can feel the love but she doesn’t know what is going on. Sometimes she doesn’t know us and is angry and violent.
My daughter struggles with it, so we have little things we do, she sits and hold her grandmother hands and paints her nails. She makes her drinks, reads her magazines or the paper and although she struggles to have a conversation with her nan, she tries. It’s hard on her, so I tell her stories about the time her Grandmother rolled herself up in a carpet just to make her (my daughter) laugh. How much she wanted a granddaughter after the loss of one of her two sons. How lucky she is to have a grandmother, many do not. But it’s hard for her. Like her grandmother, she has no memories of these happy times, she was very young, just a toddler.
I remember over the years that they, the in-laws would go dancing together and he told me, that dancing is one of the few things she could remember to do. Every night they tripped the light fantastic, and they must have worn through hundreds of pairs of shoes dancing.
But mostly I remember the love they shared and know that it’s rare, and how gutted I am for my daughter and former father in law that she no longer remembers to love them back and how selfless they are to care for her. I hope their ending is like the film, as I think sometimes with a love like that it would be impossible to go on for my former father in law.
It’s the part of life that is inevitable. Should it be the price you pay for such a great love?
My parents grew to hate each in other in old age – they really should have split up years earlier but their generation were “in it for life, better or worse.” Having witnessed that I am even more touched than most when I read about or see a very elderly couple still in a loving relationship. Your post brought tears to my eyes Sarah … it's lovely.
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sorry Suze, I should have added a weepy warning!
My parents split up after 20 years of marriage and my grandparents were married, but how can I word it – it became happier when he was no longer strong enough to fight, or drink. There was lots of love shown, but written off under the guise of the drink talking. It was sadly not a grand passion.
Not many examples for me, so I guess me and Kev will have to be the example
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“What happens when just one of you remembers” What a thought! To those of us with a God, we are the sum of our memories and who and what we are lives on in the memories of our friends and especially our children. When you are old and married, it's the joint memories good and bad that hold you together. Thanks to a trick of advancing years long term memory is enhanced and long forgotten gems resurface. To have your partner beside you and not to be able to share the remembered pleasure of the times you had together is heartbreaking. What a beautiful post Sarah.
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Thanks, it breaks my heart I wonder why we have such capacity to have such love to have it taken in our golden years?
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Hi Sarah, thank you for writing such a touching post. I have struggled for most of my life with the effects of watching my nana deteriorate with this disease. She lived with us and we took care of her. She didn't know me, her son and family for a long time, and as a child I spent hours trying to 'help' her, as I just didn't understand what this disease was .. now as an adult I can see it through different eyes, but the pain of watching years of her life wiped away with no memories was tough on the whole family.
The love shown by her husband and family in the detail that she needs, is true love at it's best. Remembering for her, rejoicing in who she is/was and the memories held dear in your heart of a special lady dancing the night away.
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Thanks for sharing Anita, living with an elderly relative can have a hard impact at times.
That reminds of something that Angela mentions in her blog about her grandfather, that when we are younger we make all these flip statements about what to do with us when we can no longer cope.
It must be heartbreaking for everyone if you have instructed them and forgot that you did it.
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What a beautiful story Sarah. It's brought a lump to my throat too. Your story shows so perfectly that deep love knows no age limit and to give with no expectation of getting has great rewards.
My mother cared for my dying father, refusing to let him be admitted to hospital. In his last 6 months, I watched as they began to realise just how much they loved one another after all.
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