by Laura Hinds

Created on: May 04, 2009   Last Updated: May 07, 2009

Mike and I got married when we were fairly young, and love was all that mattered. My parents were older, and we knew that going in. My Dad was 52 when I was born, and my Mom, although she tried to hide the fact, was 39 when she carried me. Throughout my Dad's illness and death, we stuck close together and survived, our love and passion intact.

In 1993 we bought a house that would accommodate having my Mom live with us. We knew it wasn't going to be easy, but it was the right thing to do for everyone involved. Mom didn't have any siblings, or other close family, and she had health issues. Alzheimer's disease was not something we were prepared for. Mom always kept lists so she wouldn't forget things. This was normal for her. She also kept a daily journal. It was an accepted part of who she was.

When Mom was hospitalized over and over for physical ailments we learned to take turns going to the hospital to visit and to bring things to help make it feel like home. One year, on Thanksgiving, we made an elaborate meal at home and transported it to her hospital room. She ate like a trooper, and only later did we learn that she'd had a hospital meal before we arrived.

Another hospitalization was also during holiday season. This time, I was prepared to bring her home and was running around doing errands, such as delivering wreaths to friends as was a tradition. While I was out, the hospital called. Mom had taken a bad fall and broken her ankle. It was a compound fracture (bone sticking out through the skin) and required surgery. The surgery was almost four hours, and the anesthesia brought Alzheimer's front and center to all of our attention. Yet we all thought we could manage.

Despite the best of care, Mom did not thrive. She depended on us for everything, but most important to her was that Mike prepare her meals. She loved his cooking, she loved Mike and she told everyone that he was "her son", not her son in law.

Medication became a primary issue. She was on so many medications that she couldn't remember what to take when even with lists. Alzheimer's reared its ugly head again, and I had to take the responsibility. This made me feel overwhelmed, and I took it out in many ways, including both shutting out my husband and demanding more from him at the same time. This went on for years. Day by day everyone's emotions became more and more strained and almost impossible to deal with. Sometimes Mom would insist that I was not Laura, but I was someone else. How I wished

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