UNBECOMING

I took Mom to her final cognitive evaluation on June 4, 2015. After a certain point in the progression of the disease, it became pointless to continue failing tests. She didn't know the president, the year, the month, the day, or her own last name. Every question came with a blank stare. I wanted to grab her and run away from those annoying doctors. Do we really need to go over this? She can't remember! As the test came to a close, the doctor asked Mom if she could write a no

“You have always been an example of strength to your friends. I say all this to say I love you so much, and I am so proud of you.” -email from Mom (2008) I have 26,098 emails in my inbox. It is a result of neglect, but it has also turned out to have a silver lining. It led me back to my mom’s voice. Emails from ten years ago are full of her words of encouragement. She was my cheerleader and biggest fan. Tears filled my eyes as I read “proud” and “thank you” over and over agai

I dreaded it for weeks. Calling it a “celebration of life” did not make it seem less like a funeral. I was battling the finality of Mom’s death and seeing her around every corner. She was on every aisle of the grocery store, lingering in the melody of any song that I heard, and staring back at me from hundreds of pictures on my phone. On Thursday, I finally had a chance for some solitude to reflect and set my intentions for the weekend. This service would be an excellent way

And when it's over, it's over. Last week, I told a few of my best friends that I had decided everything was going to be okay. Mom was going to die, and I would be okay. She will let go, and it will be over. I would be lying if I didn't admit I will breathe a huge sigh of relief somewhere in between my sobbing bouts of anguish. There will be relief that she no longer has to exist in this hollow shell. She will be free. Her work here will be done - and it was beautiful work. Ye

"I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship." -Louisa May Alcott I went on a walk with a close family friend last week. We are incredibly grateful for the way she has acted like a grandmother to my kids, who are missing that presence in their lives. She is a financial planner by trade and also happens to be a straight shooter. We never wonder what she is thinking. While on our walk, we discussed my mom’s situation. Friend: Did anyone else in your family h

“Where is your dad?” My kids were in a trance staring at the television. I just finished cleaning up after feeding everyone dinner. My mom was staying with us for the day. “He’s with Nana outside.” I glanced through the kitchen window and saw them seated at the table. He was talking to her, and she seemed content. An Alzheimer’s playlist streamed through Spotify on his phone. Mom has long lost her ability to speak and communicate verbally, but she was engaged and entertained

In sickness and in health. We never know exactly how this line will play out in the real world. It might be quick like a bandaid being rippe

I try not to dwell on the missed opportunity and perhaps consider it to be one last lesson my mom taught me. “Seize the moment, Jaime. Don’t

“Whoever is present are the right people. Whenever it begins is the right time. Whatever happens is the only thing that could have happened. And when it's over, it's over.” Anne Lamott, Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son's First Son Remember times in life when you were so happy to gain acceptance? I was accepted to Appalachian State University, New York University, and different internships or programs. It was means for celebration. Then, this week my mom got her fin