The Long Goodbye
Story by Matthew St. Amand
Memory is a mundane mystery. When it functions, we barely notice its monumental role in our daily lives. When memory breaks down, however, life itself seems to come off its moorings.
"Following the pandemic, Don took Michelle to The Memory Café hosted by the Alzheimer Society.
'She got up on her own and was chatting with people, speaking French,' he recalls. 'She had a really good time. It was at the Ojibway Nature Center—a beautiful setting.'
After taking an online seminar about the need for care givers to look after themselves, Anne-Marie suggested that her dad needed a life too.
'So, I asked my friends Joe and Bernie if they wanted to go out on Friday afternoons,' Don says. 'While the PSW is here, we go out for coffee. We go look at the bridge being built…'
On a recent visit to see uncle Don and aunt Michelle, I marveled at how placid she seemed. Four days before Don’s eighty-eighth birthday in May, Michelle turned eighty-six years of age and she looks very well; healthy, alert. When she heard my last name is St. Amand, she said: 'Really?' Otherwise, the few times she spoke, she said 'What?' or 'Who?' whenever Don or I looked at her as we conversed. At one point Michelle said: 'I don’t know…'
'What?' Don said to her, smiling. 'You don’t know why you ever married me?' He laughed and kissed her.
This year marks their fifty-ninth wedding anniversary.
Dementia does not discriminate. The experience is as individual as the people who live with it. One thing is certain: there is hope and there are resources available. The place to start finding answers to questions is the Alzheimer Society..."
Read the full article on Windsor Life Magazine.