Some would remember them from 4th street in Canmore. They lived beside Mrs. Wamboldt in a blue and white little house with a big garden in the back, that we never raided because their dad was a curmudgeon and we were all too scared. Their Uncle John lived further up 4th beside the late and great Maureen Brass (I miss her dearly). John was a nice fellow but his brother was just miserable.
Mary-ann would babysit me often and sometimes make sure I got to school okay. Peter, well Peter was like a third brother. He was always at our house and usually around dinner time. Him and David could always be found in the TV room arguing over a hockey game or the Atari game 'Pong'. How people could find a reason to argue over a blip and two lines as goalies, no rules, no graphics, well I don't know but it would almost come to fist and cuffs sometimes and mom would then send Peter home. Peter has kept in touch with me over the years but he hadn't seen mom since their uncle's funeral 12 years ago.
Mom perked right up when she saw Peter but you could see her struggle to remember Mary-ann and she called her daughter Dylan although there is no resemblance between the two. Still mom even said 'Peter' when he asked if she remembered him. Like I mentioned, he practically lived at our house for many years so of course she would remember him. Peter always knew how to keep mom's demons at bay and he was great at calming her down when she got riled. He had a gift and there were often times when we would say, "Peter, go upstairs and talk to mom, she's ranting" and he would. The trick he had was to listen and agree. The boys and I tended to argue and interrupt, but Pete would nod and agree, even if he didn't. My dad always liked him too. Peter always had an interest in politics and world affairs. Where Doug was more interested in girls and fashion and David was always wrapped up in sports and I was too young, Peter was well versed so when he stayed for dinner (which was at least 4 days a week) my dad always had someone to have dinner conversation with. Pete was a good addition to the family.
The Grizans are having their own struggles with dementia as their mother suffers with it. Mary-ann is a nurse so she stays home to care for her. Her house has been fitted with everything from a lift to a ramp and Mary-ann takes care of her mom, 7 days a week. Their mother isn't end stage, yet, but she has had numerous bouts of pneumonia and severe UTI's and was hospitalised regularly because of it. One of the reasons Mary-ann came to visit is that she wanted to see what extended care facilities have to offer as she realizes that although she is qualified to care for her mother, a time will come when she can't and maybe that time is approaching.
Her and I talked and compared notes and we talked about the old Canmore and the people we grew up with. Mary-ann was so saddened to hear of Shelley's passing and Maureens. But that is life. Mom started parroting our conversation meaning she repeats everything she hears. She started doing it occasionally a few days earlier and in just that short of time, now she does it all the time. Mom is losing more cognitive thought abilities and if you say "Hi Elaine, how are you?" she will respond "Hi Elaine, how are you?". She has also started sundowning. Some of these terms don't sound very 'medical' but they are the terms used to described the symptoms of end stage dementia. Sundowning means that in the late afternoon mom gets these really blank stares. Her eyes are opened but she really isn't focusing on anything, it's like a trance and even when you talk to her or snap your fingers in her face, she doesn't respond and will just stare at nothing, see the picture below. The sundowning will progress into a regular behaviour. When that happens, eating will be near impossible but the workers did tell me that the kitchen will keep a plate aside for her if she isn't alert enough at lunch or dinner times.
I look at it like like this, which came first, the chicken or the egg. Is mom slipping backwards to a valley plateau or is she moving forward to the grave. Time will tell.
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