American culture adopted this phrase “quality time” as a buzzword for time we should strive to spend with people who have meaning in our lives. We don’t have an abundance of time because of busy lives and overachieving life styles and increasing distances. So we insert ever-so-brief stints of quality time with loved ones. For years I’ve been guilty of spending quick weekends with my parents. I do now regret choosing a quick shopping trip over a walk down the beach with my mother. Imagine wasting that time shopping when she could talk to me and tell me all about her life! I have so many questions now that she can’t possibly answer them.
I cherish time with her no matter what the circumstance now. At different times and different stages of her disease, I made an effort to make the time memorable, at least to me. The best quality time is simple quality time. In the past, I wanted everything to be perfect. It seemed important to have the right music on the radio, serve the right food on the right dishes or take her to the right ice cream stand. I wanted mom have fun with me. For some strange reason, I thought all these extraneous details made our time together better. Truthfully, nothing else matters if we can just look at each other and smile.
The key to quality time with an Alzheimer’s patient
The key to quality time with an Alzheimer’s patient is that you have to slow down and be present in the moment. Be with the person physically and focus all attention on being there. That is so hard to do these days with all the demands of life. Being plugged into technology 24/7 doesn’t help the situation.Before I relocated to live near mom, during visits I would set aside time each day to be with her. One of my favorite things to do was take her through the drive up for a milkshake and go sit on a bench to watch the birds. It didn’t matter if we did that four days in a row because she didn’t remember the previous three days. Every day could be the same and we could laugh and sing twelve verses of “row-row- row- your- boat” and be silly. We laughed and it was all good.
I have to adapt to her condition
As mom’s condition changes, I have to adapt. Those days when I could take her by the hand, put her in the car and take her for a ride were fun. I still remember the last time I took her for a ride. Headed to a new rehab, she looked at me as if it was the most glorious occasion to be riding in the car with me. And it was!
But last night was also a glorious occasion. I visited after dinner and found mom sitting in the hallway all snuggled up in a fleece bathrobe and her pink nightgown. She was content as she had had a nice shower and had been on the move all day in her chair.We moved to the entrance of her room where I positioned my beanbag chair next to her. The beanbag chair was the best $29 purchase I ever made from Walmart. I keep it in the corner of her room. It’s light so I easily take it to mom and it’s low so I sit down at a level where she can see me. Most chairs seat me above her line of vision.
Mom immediately reached for my hand so I rested it in her lap and she held onto it. Music was playing in the activity room and her fingers tapped on my hand to the beat. We sat there together for over an hour smiling and holding hands. When she got sleepy and closed her eyes, I put my beanbag away and kissed her on the forehead. Perfect. It was definitely quality time.
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