Barbara

Dear Barbara,

I remember when I first met you I was touched by how kind you were and how well you took care of  your family. You always took care of everyone else first and served your mother and your aunt for years as they struggled with health issues.

In those early days,  I thought you had a simple life and a very small world.  You only completed 9th grade, you married at 15 and had your first child at 16.  You lived in the same house for almost 50 years.  You shopped at the same grocery store.  You didn't put gas in the car, but let your husband do that.  You prepared a drink for your husband every night so he could relax while you made dinner.  You didn't worry about what was going on in the world but you did follow soaps and "The Inquirer."  That was my perception of you, Barbara, for so many years.  I loved you for the person I thought you were but now I love you even more because I know more about how challenging your life really was.

You have encouraged me as a wife.  I never quite made it to your level, since I don't cook breakfast and oftentimes I don't cook dinner.  I also know that I have been a little fiesty as a wife and I am sure that has frustrated you at times but you have loved me regardless.  In addition, you have given me great advice as a mom.  I will never forget the times you said, "I could handle any stage my children went through as long as they don't get stuck in one!"  How true that is!

Over the years, I learned how big your world really was though and how incredibly strong you are.  You have faced so many difficult times in your life, Mom.  Your childhood was difficult, your first child died way too young, you lost your husband in a tragic car accident and a few years ago lost one of your sons.  You are one of the strongest people I have ever been around.  You hold onto faith and your family no matter how tough the trial is.

Over the last 5 years, we have had some amazing times together.  We have strung a lot of beads, had some fabulous dinners together and lots of laughs.  As your dementia started to progress you would often get sad about the changes you were seeing but you always had the ability to laugh about it.  As you had to make changes in your life by letting go of the car, the finances,  your beloved dogs, Muffin and Murphy, and your independence, you took it all in stride.  I knew it was killing you on the inside but you never complained.

I will never forget the day we were at the "Dollar Store" and I asked you to wait by the door while I pulled up the car so you wouldn't have to get out in the 100 degree heat.  As I pulled up I saw you get in the wrong car and sit on a young gentleman's lap.  At first you were a little shocked and stunned but you quickly started laughing and we laughed about that for years afterward.

Today I sit with you in the dementia unit holding your hand and telling you that everything will be ok.  You don't know who I am anymore.  You cannot retrieve words and everything is jumbled up in your mind but you know what Mom, you are still as sweet and kind as ever.  You shared with me today that you feel trapped and I can understand why.  I grieve for you every time I see you.  I wish that I could put your mind back together but I know God will do that for you someday.  I love you, Mom, and will continue to hold your hand.  You are an amazing lady and I consider it a privilege to be able to serve you.  Thank you for sharing your son with me all these years, for accepting me into your family and for loving on my children and grandchildren.

I love you, Mom.