Thanksgiving 2016

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. Mom hasn't known what holidays are for a couple of years now. I only get to spend every other year with my family for Thanksgiving; the odd years are spent with my in-laws and the even years are with my side of the family. It's been quite a while since I've enjoyed a real Thanksgiving with my mom. This morning, a picture popped up in my facebook memories. It was a picture taken of Mom and me during Thanksgiving, 2010. While looking at that picture, I realized that this was the last real Thanksgiving I had with mom.

In 2010, we knew that something was wrong with her, but we didn't know quite what it was (despite several appointments with doctors and specialists). Mom had come to Thanksgiving at my house that year and was finicky over the food. My Uncle was making the turkey the "wrong way" (he was smoking it on the BBQ), she was having aversions to a lot of the foods and she messed up on making her pies. I thought it strange at the time that her pumpkin pie had turned out runny; mom had always been a master in the kitchen. I remember being slightly embarrassed and confused with the odd way Mom was behaving. I feel a little ashamed of that now, but at the time I had no idea what was going on.

In hindsight, I wish I would've known that that would be our last real Thanksgiving with her. Rather than being annoyed or embarrassed, I would have embraced every moment of the holiday. Thinking about it now bring tears to my eyes. I miss my mom so much.

By the next Thanksgiving turn (2012) she'd received her diagnosis and even though she still somewhat understood what Thanksgiving was, she didn't participate in any of the preparations and she didn't eat any of the food. Thanksgiving 2014 came and went and she didn't even know what Thanksgiving was. This time, I was a little more mentally prepared in that I had no expectations of jogging her memory in getting her to remember what the holiday is. Those days are long gone. Everyday seems to mesh into the next for her; there are no special days anymore.

Thanksgiving dinner was held at my parent's house, as are all holidays nowadays due to the fact that we can't get Mom to leave the house and be comfortable anywhere else. My house is a little more ideal for family gatherings, with a big backyard and plenty of space for the kids to run around and play. Dad's house is a little tighter quarters, but, it is what it is and we make the best of it. There were two highlights of this Thanksgiving. One was that Mom came into the kitchen to make her peanut butter and jelly sandwich right during dinner time, which meant that we had two minutes of her sitting down at the table with the family during our feast! It might sound silly, but it was such a sweet thing to have her sit with us, if only but for a moment. The second highlight was getting this snapshot of Mom with some of her grandkids. Not all the grandkids were there that day, but I was happy to get this picture of her with the kids.

I enjoyed spending time with my family, but it's still really hard without Mom. I often wonder if it's harder having her there physically. It's a painful reminder of all that we are missing. I almost made it through the entire day without any tears ;)

Check back tomorrow for another post about the eventful weekend that followed Thanksgiving!!

Christmas 2014

This Christmas went about as well as expected. Mom had no idea what Christmas was; it is the first year that she has completely forgotten the holidays. That was a little tough...we kept trying to spark her memory with different Christmas decorations, traditions, etc. But it was to no avail. Mom lives in a small little world that revolves around medicine, eating and sleeping. She knows about little else.

My Aunt Claudia (mom's sister) planned a Christmas Eve party at her house. This used to be our family tradition-up until my grandparents died a few years back. Christmas Eve was always a lovely affair. Grandma spent days beforehand baking an array of Christmas goodies and prepared tins of treats for everyone. Dozens of presents were lined under the tree for all of the kids, grandkids and my grandparents. Nobody was forgotten. Aunt Claudia really wanted to recreate Christmas Eve and really wanted my mom to be there. We knew that mom wasn't going to understand the significance or meaning to our traditional gathering, but we really wanted to try to get her there anyway. It was nothing short of a Christmas miracle that dad was able to get mom into the car that Christmas Eve afternoon and across town to her sister's house.

When mom arrived at her sister's house, she walked through the house, searching for people and trying to make sense of who everyone was. Unfortunately, she never connected who her nieces and nephews were and it even took her awhile to figure out who my brother and his wife were (they had arrived at my Aunt's directly from Arizona). She paced the house for a good amount of time; it was hard to get her to settle down. She walked around, repeating,

"I miss my brother Jeff, I wish he was here I miss him."

We laughed a couple times when she wandered around searching for the grandkids - my sister's daughter, Raelynn, in particular. At one point, mom stuck her head outside the back door in an effort to locate Raelynn and as Raelynn responded to grandma's calls, my mom took Raelynn by the hand and brought her over to my sister, stating,

"Here you need to be with your mom, you should stay with your mom."

We were able to finally get her to settle down and sit with us; for a little while, anyway. When she was ready to go, she was ready to go! She charged out the door and plopped herself down inside dad's truck at one point. She eventually had to go potty and reluctantly came back inside the house. Before she could head back to the truck, we pulled her into a family picture and dad was able to settle her down once again (I think he bribed her by showing her her nightly medicines).

She didn't understand one bit of Christmas Eve, but we were able to get her there and spend some time together as a family. My Aunt did a beautiful job of recreating our Christmases of the past. I know that we will look back on this memory with fondness and I'm glad mom was able to be there in some small way.

Christmas Day didn't go as well as Christmas Eve. Of course mom is set in her own routine so it meant nothing to her when we all showed up Christmas morning for our traditional Christmas breakfast and gift exchange. We tried to get her to sit with us to open up some presents, but it was her time to sit on her bed and watch the clock for the next hour until it was time to potty. My sisters and I took in some presents for her to open in her bedroom. I was the smart one of the group (ha ha) and I put her presents in an open basket rather than in a gift bag, since I knew she wouldn't understand that concept. It's hard to Christmas shop for someone who just sits on her bed half the day, so we all opted out of sentimental gifts and bought her practical gifts that she would enjoy instead, which includes: make up, Ensure and Bath & Body Works. When I presented her her basket, she couldn't connect that it was a gift. She must have thought that I was showing her something that she already had. It wasn't until my sis-n-law stepped in and starting taking body lotions out of her gift bag that the light bulb suddenly went on.

"Oh, this is for me? You bought this for me too? Oh yeah, that's so good."

And with that, mom took her gifts and put them in her home.

Mom lost interest in viewing her other gifts after she put her lotions away, so when she came out of her room to take her empty "Slim Fast" cup to the kitchen sink, we redirected her to the couch in an effort to get her to open up the rest of her gifts. She didn't understand what we wanted her to do and she kept trying to get up to leave. My brother and I held her on the couch for a few minutes, with me draping my legs over her in an effort to get her to stay, he he. As we tried to explain to her that she had more gifts, mom complained about how she needed to go up to the store to get more make-up. My dad brought over his gift bag to her which contained more make-up than any one person needed. When mom inspected eyeliners (tearing it out of it's packages to make sure it was the right one) she wiggled her way out of our grasp and made a mad dash to her bathroom, where she put her gifts in their home.

All in all, I enjoyed the holiday season. I wasn't expecting much with mom so I wasn't let down as hard, if that makes sense. I still miss her all the time and it's so disheartening to watch her slip away and disengage with the family. I just can't imagine what next year will bring, although traveling anywhere (even across town) will be out of the question I'm sure.

You might also notice some other changes in mom. She has started using her blue eyeliner/eyeshadow for her eyebrows. The first time this happened (a few weeks ago) I thought it was a simple mistake. But she's been doing her make-up like this ever since. She also wears her shirts backwards most days. :(

The Last Holiday

Last summer, we traveled to Arizona to move my brother (and his family) out of his apartment and into a house. My dad came up with a seemingly great idea: let Joe and Natalie host Thanksgiving this year in their new place. Although I loved the idea of getting away and going to Joe's, I was very wary about how mom would handle the trip. How would she do on the drive? Would she understand where/why she was going? Would she engage at all or be miserable out of her comfort zone? How would we be able to go out anywhere all together?

Not to worry, says my dad, the optimist. He planned to bring his fifth wheel trailer; after all, there is a trailer camp a mile down the road from Joe's house. Mom would have her own space to sleep and get ready. But what about throughout the day? we all wondered. Dad figured that if Joe set up mom's favorite computer games on his computer, mom would be content to stay at Joe's house throughout the day to play games and maybe, just maybe, engage with family.

Well...day one seemed to be off to a good start. Wednesday morning, dad dragged mom out of bed, showered her and had her in the truck, ready to go, by 8:00. That is a huge accomplishment for mom. Even though she couldn't understand where exactly they were going (she had it in her head that they were going to the mall and was annoyed with dad many times for going the wrong way), by the time they had arrived to Arizona and we answered the front door, mom came plowing through declaring,

"Joe? Joe? Is this Joe's house too?"

She came in and we all said hi and greeted mom, telling her how happy we were that she was there. Just why she was there, she had no idea. I suppose she thought they drove five hours to simply say hello. At any rate, we brought Joe and Natalie's 9 month old baby, Zach, over to mom and sat him in her lap in an effort to engage her. Most times, she will not look much at Zach and seems oblivious to his presence. But this time, she actually smiled at him and for a brief moment even held him (with Natalie's help, of course). It was such a touching moment to witness mom finally engaging (even if only very briefly) with her youngest grandbaby. It was a moment that I am sure we will all remember.

[And we'll all remember (with giggles) the moment afterwards when she pushed Zach back towards Natalie and said,

"She's your mom she's your mom, go to your mom."]

But alas, all good things must come to an end. Within a couple of hours, mom was ready to go. Dinner and medicine time were coming up and mom wanted to be in her space. Dad took her back to her trailer and we thought (or had hoped) that she would be content in her home-away-from-home. Unfortunately, mom was ready to go home. Nevertheless, she settled down and the next morning (Thanksgiving) dad was able to get her back over to Joe's....for a little while. She was restless again by noon time and insisted that dad take her home. Dad eventually gave in and took her back to the trailer for a nap. I suspect the only way he got her back over to Joe's later that afternoon was that she was hopeful he was obliging her requests to go home. Needless to say, she was not happy to be at my brother's house. For the next two hours, she paced, she complained, she tried to find ways out of the house (the closet, the garage, the front door). There were a couple of times we had to guard the door and a couple other times we had to bring her back inside after her attempt to escape to the truck. We tried to get her engaged in computer games, but that master plan failed. She wasn't familiar with Joe's computer, especially because it was a laptop rather than a desktop. She insisted that it wasn't right and would not even give it a second glance.

And my dad...his despair was plain to see. Thanksgiving is his favorite holiday. I know he was really looking forward to all of us being together and spending time together as a family. He hardly spoke and I could see the sadness in his eyes. He didn't even eat his pie-we made both of his favorites: pumpkin and coconut. I hope I'm not crossing the line by writing about this, but how can you not feel depressed under these circumstances? As hard as it is for me and much as I miss my mom, she is my dad's wife, his life partner, the love of his life. We tried to get him to laugh during dinner and lighten the mood, but when he finally spoke, reality hit me hard when he said,

"This is the last holiday".

We all know this, of course. Mom barely engaged in the holidays last year. This year it is completely gone. And so it's hard for my dad to carry on and celebrate the holidays without my mom.

"The magic is gone," he says.

We tried to convince my dad to move the trailer in front of Joe's house that night; he was in no mood to deal with it. After mom swung her bag and hit dad in the back of his head (in an effort to get his attention to take her home), dad got up from the table and took mom back to the trailer for the night.

Dad was ready to take mom back home, but we still wanted him to stay and visit with us and we really wanted to boost his spirit. The next morning, my brother, nephew and I went to dad's trailer and told him we were there to help him move the trailer to Joe's house. Surprisingly, he gave in. We packed him up and set him up at Joe's house. At least there, he could come inside to visit while mom remained where she was a little more comfortable. For the next couple of days, dad was able to come inside and visit with us while still keeping an eye on mom. We watched movies, he rode his scooter with the kids, we celebrated my brother-in-law's birthday. We spent some time shopping and taking the kids to the park and whatnot, but my dad stayed behind. He didn't want to even deal with mom out in public; he already felt so defeated. It was disappointing that we couldn't all go out together. My brother stayed behind and hung out in the trailer with my parents while we took the kids out on Saturday. Mom continued to nag dad to take her home, but he seemed to be in better spirits about it than on Thanksgiving Day.

Originally, dad had planned to stay until Monday to beat traffic. But he was tired and felt like he was keeping mom prisoner, so he left with us on Sunday. Mom was restless most of the way home and was upset that dad was "going the wrong way".

"That's not the way you go, you shouldn't go that way, you're so stupid," she'd say.

When we stopped for lunch, we had to practically drag her inside the restaurant and dad had to trap her in a booth while we ordered his lunch. She kept trying to pinch him to get free and asked if we were at the "food place up the street."

"Is that store Stater Brothers over there too? Can I walk home now?" (We were barely at state line).

We made it through lunch without her escaping and continued our journey home. Because of the holiday traffic, our 5 hour drive turned into 8. Thankfully my dad had my nephew in the truck with him to help keep him sane, but it was a difficult drive, no doubt.

So there you have it. I wish I could say it was a wonderful trip with lots of grand memories made. Don't get me wrong, we had some fun and laughs and did make some memories, but I know it was a big let down for my dad. Needless to say, this was not only the last holiday, but it was also mom's last trip. I know we've said that the past couple of trips, but this trip surely sealed the deal.

And now...on to Christmas.

What Matters Most

I absolutely love the holiday season. The changing seasons, the chill in the air, the scents of pumpkin and holiday spices, the feeling of gratitude and helping others in need...I love everything about this season-from October until January.

Now that Halloween and October birthdays are over, I decided to get focused on Christmas! I know...can't the turkey have his holiday? ;) I really want to get my Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving so that I can sit back and truly enjoy all the holiday traditions and festivities that the season brings. I don't want to have to think about shopping after November! Yesterday, while my kids were at school and my youngest was at his preschool group, I decided to tackle some Christmas shopping. I love Christmas presents, and not for materialistic reasons. I really enjoy finding that "perfect" gift for the people I love. I love seeing their faces when they open up their gifts that I've carefully selected that I know they'll love. I love gifts because I love giving.

While driving to my shopping destinations yesterday, I was alone in my thoughts. It's a rare occasion that I drive anywhere alone; those quiet moments always cause me to pause and reflect. My thoughts quickly turned to my mom. Last year, we had a pretty good feeling that it was our last Christmas with mom knowing what the holiday was. Given that she hasn't been remembering any of our birthdays over the past few months, I am doubtful that she will have any clue about what the upcoming holidays represent. I was remembering the beautiful quilt I made her last year and how excited I was to give it to her. I was very proud of that perfect gift I had created for her. And then my thoughts turned to a day, not too long ago, when I was at mom's house. She was sitting on her bed in her usual silence, arms folded across her stomach. I tried to strike up a conversation with her and reached for the blanket that was folded up on dad's side of the bed. I spread the quilt across the two of us and pointed to some pictures of her grandkids.

"Remember this blanket I made for you last Christmas? Who are these people on here, mom. Do you remember?" I asked, pointing at the square with my son's face printed on.

Mom wouldn't meet my eyes nor would she look at the blanket. She seemed agitated that I was bothering her with incessant chatter.

"No, that goes there," she finally responded, grabbing the quilt from me and tossing it back to my dad's side of the bed.

As I reflected on this, driving in my car on my way to pick out those perfect gifts, I thought about all of the perfect gifts I have selected for my mom over the years. Though they were meaningful in the moment, they mean nothing to her now. They hold no value or significance to mom any longer. All of the material things that she owns in life- every gift she's received and everything she has worked so hard to buy for herself- no longer holds meaning for her (save it be her blow dryer, make up, and a few other daily objects that she uses). What makes it even harder is that not only do the "things" we've gotten her no longer matter, but even the memories of them are fading; the memory of why each of her belongings are significant.

As this realization hit me, my perspective changed just a little. I spend so much time thinking about getting the perfect gift and giving people "things" that will make them happy. At the end of the day, is that what really matters? I'm not saying that it's not important to me; I still love giving personal gifts to my loved ones and seeing that look of happiness when they open their gift. But thinking about my mom was a reminder to me to focus on what matters most: spending time and making memories with the people I love. I am excited to get those special gifts and by Thanksgiving, I'd like to have them all wrapped and ready to place under the Christmas tree so that I can devote the rest of my energy on making the season special for those around me. We can't take our material things with us when we die. My mom has already reached the point where those material things don't matter. Unfortunately even her memories are leaving her. But I believe that one day, all of those memories will be restored. Traditions, time spent with loved one, lifting those up around us, making memories...that is what matters the most!

Oh Christmas Tree

In my last post, I voiced my concerns about whether or not mom would remember Christmas. So far this year, she has forgotten every single holiday; though she does remember most everyone’s birthdays and anniversaries. Last year, she was very selective about what she did remember about Christmas and she didn’t participate in many of the festivities. So it goes without saying that we’ve been apprehensive to see what this Christmas season brings.

A couple weeks ago, the weekend after Thanksgiving to be exact, my siblings and I went over to mom and dad’s house to put up their Christmas tree. Mom was in her usual place: at her computer. We weren’t sure what kind of fuss she might make when she saw a tree in her living room. Would she know why it was there?

By the time we had all finished decorating the tree, mom strolled through the living room on her way to the kitchen. She didn’t notice the tree at all. I drew her attention to it and asked her if she remembered why we put up a Christmas tree.

“Oh yeah, there were those things too that had the pictures of the kids on it too, the grandkids too and also you kids too when you were kids and I always liked to put those on so good, too,” she responded.

She was referring to the many ornaments that have been made over the years bearing our pictures on them. Mom remembered!!

Over the past week and a half, we’ve talked about Christmas with her, as a reminder and preparation of the upcoming holiday. She has told my dad that she needs to go to Bath & Body Works (where else??) to get my sister’s present. When I was over on Monday, I was talking to her about Christmas, asking her if she remembered, and she commented,

“It’s on the 25th too.”

She was also a little annoyed that all of her holiday decorations did not make it out this year; particularly her nativity set.

“I told your dad to get that thing down too, it’s way up high, that thing with the thing and Je-Jesus too…”

I don’t know if she will remember all of the family traditions…the Christmas breakfast that her mom started with her as a child, the Christmas goodies. I don’t know she’ll venture out Christmas shopping this year with me or if she’ll even understand the concept of presents. But she remembers the most important part about Christmas-that it’s all about Jesus!

I go into this holiday knowing that it is very likely the very last Christmas that mom is aware of. It can be depressing to think about, and there’s still so much she’s unaware of; I miss her especially at this time of year. But after my “Blue Christmas” last year, I’m determined to make the best of the situation, enjoy the moments we have and make her last Christmas memorable for all of us.

Thanksgiving

The holidays are always tough when you’ve lost/are losing someone you love. Last year, my mom was very disconnected from all of the holidays festivities. BUT…at least she knew what they were. She had at least some faint memory of Thanksgiving. This year, mom had absolutely no idea what Thanksgiving was.

I tried several times prior to Thanksgiving to prompt her and spark some kind of memory about the upcoming holiday. I talked about it, explained the food, even showed her the date on her calendar. When I showed up to her house on Monday with all of the kids (who were out on Thanksgiving break), mom was confused as to why they were out of school. I tried to tell her that it was because of the holiday that week, to which she responded,

“Holiday, what? What do you mean by holiday, what are you talking about holiday. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

I suppose deep down I knew that it wasn’t going to click. I suppose I just wasn’t ready to accept it. I held hope that once all the family arrived and once she saw all of the foods that it might click. I spent the early afternoon at my in-law’s house before heading over to my parent’s house around 5:00 Thanksgiving evening. Mom, of course, was in the office, playing her computer game. I asked my family if it had finally “clicked” that it was Thanksgiving; as suspected, mom was oblivious. In fact, she couldn’t quite figure out why everybody was over in her house, though she said it was “real good” that some relatives were around often to visit. She didn’t recognize my Aunt, who she sees a couple of times a month. She was confused about who my sister was (her darker hair, recently dyed, has mom a bit confused).

I went to say hi to mom in the computer room. I sat down beside her and she asked why I was there.

“It’s a holiday today mom. It’s Thanksgiving. It’s that holiday right before Christmas when you eat all the good foods…remember?”

“Hmm? Holiday what? I’m confused what you’re saying, holiday. My stupid brain, I don’t know what you all keep saying holiday. My brain is so stupid.”

Try as I might, I could not bring her back and help her to remember Thanksgiving. The concept is gone. Thanksgiving with mom is gone.

Last year, the holidays were hard. I felt really blue. It was the first holiday season that I really didn’t have my mom there to help me with the food, the planning, etc. It was the first holiday season that we faced knowing mom had dementia. But at least she knew what the holidays were.

Seasons change. Another year has come and gone and dementia has taken more away from us. While we celebrate what we are thankful for, I am thankful to still have my mom. But I sure do miss my mom and the way life once was.

I wonder now…will she remember Christmas?

Blue Christmas

Christmas is finally over.

Ordinarily, I love every single moment of the Christmas season. It is my favorite season of the entire year and I anticipate it for months in advance. I relish in choosing the perfect gifts for each person, in going to the Christmas parties and hearing the joyful sounds of Christmas carols.

This year, I was just wasn't feeling that Christmas spirit. We had some nice moments and carried on our family traditions of building Gingerbread houses and Christmas cookies, visiting Santa, going downtown to see the lights, reading scriptures on the birth of Jesus. We did Christmas crafts and attended Christmas concerts (band and choir) for our girls. I did my usual Christmas baking and delivered goodies to close friends. We went to a Christmas party at church with my dad and I even threw the kids a party/gift exchange with their friends. I picked out the best gifts for the people I love, things that came from the heart that I knew they would love. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't shake off the feeling of emptiness and sadness that hung over my head, like a dark cloud. Something was missing.

That something, is my mom. I miss my mom. In years past, we spent our baking days together, listening to Christmas music while we worked. We always went shopping together, whether it was to shop for the kids or shop for my dad or to pick out presents for other people on our list. Mom loved it when we came to her ward's Christmas party at church. It's always been important to my parents to have all the grandkids together for those kinds of parties and keep our family traditions intact.

The season started out a little bit better than expected. Mom made a Christmas card list, filled out all of her Christmas cards, complete with a message about Jesus, and sent them all out on her own. That was encouraging to me! We went over to their house to help them decorate the tree, and she remembered how to do that (even though it was not decorated up to her pre-dementia perfectionist standards). I felt a little bit of hope that maybe she would still remember and engage in our Christmas traditions of the past.

As the season wore on, mom seemed disconnected from all the festivities surrounding her. She did not go the Christmas parties at church. She couldn't remember what any of our Christmas goodies were, let alone help bake them. She didn't know who Santa was. She seemed confused on what many of the festivities were about. Aside from the shopping trip to Kmart for my dad, she didn't engage or even attempt to engage in any Christmas shopping. My siblings and I coordinated all of the Christmas meals without any interest or input from my mom (she was just happy that I had assigned her to bring the broccoli-cauliflower salad for Christmas Eve).

On Christmas morning, we did what we do every year: we opened our presents at home with our kids and then went over to mom and dad's for our traditional Christmas breakfast. Christmas is not Christmas without this breakfast. We wait all year to have this yummy goodness. We have had this breakfast every single year of my life. Mom's mom came up with this recipe and started making it for her kids when mom was little. So by all means, mom should have remembered Christmas breakfast. As I was began making breakfast, mom walked into the kitchen. I asked mom if she'd be having Christmas breakfast with us, knowing deep down that she wouldn't have any. She looked at it strangely and said,

"No I didn't know about that."

"Mom, this is the Christmas breakfast that your mom created. We've eaten it every year, you always loved it! Christmas isn't Christmas without it!"

"No I didn't remember about that. I already drank my Slim Fast," she said, as she walked out of the kitchen.

It was the expected response, but still disheartening to say the least. If she's forgotten the traditions of the holiday that we've held so near and dear all these years, who is to say she will even remember the holiday itself next year?

In the past, mom always got giddy at present time. She absolutely loved to pass out presents to her grandkids and delighted in their reactions to what she had picked out for them. This time, mom sat on the couch, staring straight ahead with a blank look on her face. She showed no reaction and no emotion as we each took our turns opening presents. At one point, my niece went up to her to give her a hug and say thank you for the present. Mom had very little response; she didn't hug her back and seemed confused as to why she was hugging her and what she was saying to her.

The only time she showed any emotion to any present opened was when dad opened the laundry detergent that he had given her. Dad knew that mom had picked out something bizarre for him; he had been anticipating what it was for days. We all huddled around him as he opened the present and directed mom's attention to dad. As dad opened his present, to find Gain laundry detergent, he had sheer amusement on his face. We were all chuckling and finding the humor in the situation. Dad looked at mom and said,

"Thanks dear. I need this."

Mom sat slightly forward in her seat on the couch and, waving her finger towards the laundry soap, told him very seriously,

"Yeah, that's why I got you that, yeah. I know you like that."

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," dad said, trying to contain the chuckles.

For as long as I can remember, my dad has always filled out his gift tags to mom using pet names. In fact, they both did it. They would write things such as: "To Mrs. Claus, from Mr. Claus" or "To Dee, From Guess Who" or "To Toots, From Sancho" (don't know if I spelled Toots right). I always thought it was cute that they "spiced" it up and made it fun. This year, mom was confused with the tags on the gifts dad gave.

"Huh? What do you mean, Guess Who? What? Who is this for? Why does it say this, Guess Who?" or "Toots, what? I don't know what this means."

When she opened her gifts, she wasn't overly excited and she was sometimes a bit confused at what she was receiving. I had to explain to her several times that the skirts she opened from me were made by me, as she's been hounding me for months about making her skirts,

"I don't know why you won't ever make me any skirts, you're so talented. I wish you would make me some skirts."

She seemed to like the skirts, though she wasn't overly enthusiastic as she has been in years past.

By the time the rest of the extended family showed up (near 1:00), mom was ready for a nap. She was concerned about people coming over during naptime, but dad kept reiterating that it was Christmas and that people would be over to celebrate. That's what we do for holidays. She went back to her room alone, making no exception for the holiday.

I don't know what the future holds; will we be able to have large gatherings next year? Only time will tell. Based on her detachment and disinterest this year, my guess is that by next year, the holidays will be meaningless to her. I look ahead to next Christmas with dread. I don't know how we will make it through. As sad and disheartening as it was for our family this year, I know the road ahead will only get rougher. I suppose my goal for the New Year is to figure out how to cope and manage the despair that comes with losing a loved one.