Christmas is all about the memories.
What happens when the memories cease?
As my family journey with Alzheimer's progresses, I wanted to share a few thoughts about the season and the changes we are facing.
It is my fervent wish your family is not dealing with this but I know thousands are.
I’ve noticed that in every single encounter there comes a point when the conversation goes to past Christmases. It's how we, as people, bond, I think.
As a society, we talk about family traditions, decorations we remember, how Christmas trees of the past were chosen, all the meals, the cookie recipes, favourite toys.
Maybe half the magic of the season comes from remembering.
Until they don’t remember.
This year we have marked birthdays and anniversaries and all the usual occasions but to the person with dementia, its just any other day.
When my brother-in-law was wished Happy Birthday he just wished everyone the same.
Christmas was always done up in a very big way in my family. Everything was over the top — from the decor to the feasts to the oodles of gifts. We literally had to stop for a cookie/coffee break mid opening.
Oh and the rules!
Everyone opened one gift per round, in order, without guessing the contents of the package.
Everyone had a knife for opening and a hamper for the gift wrap which had to be folded up and saved along with the bows for reuse.
Granted, we didn’t have little children to throw our plans of order into chaos.
Now, though, there is no need for any rules. We won’t know what this Christmas will bring.
Will he have found the hidden gifts and pre-opened them? Will they be re-hidden somewhere we may never find?
I’m pretty sure any candy found will never make it to the stockings. I’m also sure he will say I am to blame!
Last year, we realized our Christmases would never be the same.
The boxes were more exciting than the gifts and rather than look at the present and check it out, he just re-boxed it and handed it back to the giver.
Yes, I know these are all MY issues and MY disappointments of traditions lost, but it still hurts.
I’m trying to brace myself this year and just accept what happens, but I’m sure I’ll fail miserably.
My sister says we just have to go through the motions and make things as fun as we can.
So, we will still dress up in our best holiday attire, put on the Elvis Christmas music, put the Fireplace Channel on the television, set out all sorts of yummy food and paste on a smile.
I’m sure we have all lived through Christmases with some of our loved ones missing. Those empty chairs around the table are ever more obvious during the holidays.
Here’s the thing, though. It’s a very different grief when the one who is missing is still sitting right beside you but is just as gone.
Maybe, it’ll be a good day and he’ll know its Christmas. Maybe he’ll remember to tell his wife she’s pretty or thank her for her hard work. Maybe he’ll tell me he thinks I’m funny. Hopefully, the cats will make him smile.
I believe Santa can still work a little magic and that maybe, like a beautiful candle, there will be a flicker of a sentimental memory and we will see a twinkle back in his eyes.
And that will make our Christmas bright.
