During the early stages of mom’s disease, I visited my parents often. I did a lot of quick weekends, flying there about every 4 weeks. On each visit, I observed mom and saw that we were no doubt living the Alzheimer’s long good-bye. I thought eventually I would become responsible. For those early years, though, I perceived that things were holding together at the homestead despite mom’s separation anxiety. We still had time to plan and meet the challenges as they arose. I worried but I was not overly alarmed yet.
Though not a clinician, I evaluated my mother during every visit against all the literature and logged my observations.
During one visit, I observed mom’s escalating separation anxiety and my father’s response to her anxiety. Any time he left the house, my mother paced and worried. She paced nervously all the while looking out the windows and opening the front door repeatedly to see if his car pulled in. This worried me. She could get locked out in the heat or wander off and try to find him. And at his age, I worried that something could happen to him and he wouldn’t get home to her.
To manage her escalating anxiety, my father helped her write down the time he was leaving so she could judge that he wasn’t gone long. He always returned within the hour. But she still paced. As she became more insecure, she would cry and fret when he left her. In my opinion, dad radically assumed that mom understood time.
During one particular visit, I observed her behavior on the first day. It didn’t matter to her that I was in the house. She felt secure only with dad. So the next day I attempted to intervene to keep mom calm. I tried to engage her in dialogue to distract her. She ignored me and continued to search for my father. Then I noticed that she searched for him even when he went to another part of the house. Later I was able to distract mom by laughing and being silly. Laughter worked! We had fun! Repetition proved my theory. At least for now, I could use this tactic to distract and calm my mother whenever my father left.
I flew home a few days later and knew this same scenario would play out every day. Dad still didn’t understand her separation anxiety. So I called my mother every day at the same time. Fortunately I could predict my father and would time my call for just after he left the driveway. Mom and I laughed for nearly an hour each day. As soon as she told me that his car pulled in, I told her to say hello. My father had no idea I was calling every day for the purpose of keeping mom calm. How long could this go on and how long could we keep her safe living at the house?
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