Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Delaney
“Wow, Mom, you really love this new flavor, don’t you?
” I scoop another bit of the cherry-vanilla ice cream I decided on to see if Mom would love it as much as her usual pistachio-flavored treat.
If the voraciousness with which she’s taking the spoonful’s I hold up to her lips and opening her mouth for more is any indication, it’s a winner.
“I know. You like it, but we have to go slow enough so you don’t get brain freeze.” I smile, thinking about all the times that Mom would warn me not to eat my cold treats too fast. How the tables have turned.
Between bites, I look around the dining room at the other residents who remain here after dinner.
Albert, over in the corner, is sitting with his wife, Dana, and she’s telling him stories and showing him videos of his granddaughter’s dance recital, which must have just occurred.
Joy exudes from her every word as she describes the event to him, and I can’t help but listen.
I continue feeding Mom, but I’m drawn now to watching what’s happening with Albert and Dana.
Each time she holds up her phone or tablet to show him something, I watch as her face falls at his lack of reaction.
Albert’s dementia is pretty far advanced, and he depends on others for all of his care needs, but worse than that, he rarely engages now with anyone—including his wife of forty-five years.
But my gosh, the devotion she has, despite how difficult it must be to see him like this, is awe-inspiring.
We’re almost at the end of Mom's ice cream, and normally, I would take her for a walk around the memory care unit, then make sure she was clean and dry before I left. I glance down at my watch, and it’s four-thirty in the afternoon. I think I have time for what I’m about to do.
“Dana, it sounds like your granddaughter had a beautiful recital.” The dining room is small enough that Dana can hear me without my having to raise my voice or walk over to their table.
Dana looks up at Mom and me and smiles. “It was, Delaney. It was beautiful. The girls were dazzling.” The proud grandmother’s face lights up.
“If you have a few minutes, I would love to see the pictures, and I’m sure my mom would enjoy them as well.”
Surprise flickers in Dana’s eyes for a second and then disappears. After a quick glance at Albert, she grabs her tablet and phone off the table, wheels Albert over, and positions him at the table, then sits in a chair next to Mom.
The first video she shares is of her oldest granddaughter in her gorgeous ballerina costume, dancing on pointe shoes to a number from Swan Lake.
It’s a number I remember from the years that Mom signed me up for dance lessons.
As a young child, Mom took me to see the Nutcracker, and after that, I desperately wanted to be a ballerina.
Going to dance lessons was my favorite time of the week, and Mom never missed a performance.
“I did this same number for one of my recitals when I was much younger. Ballet, especially pointe, was always Mom’s favorite to watch.”
“I bet you were a beautiful ballerina,” Dana says. The soft, warm expression on her face as she looks at me makes me suddenly miss my grandmother. She, second only to Mom, was my greatest support as I grew up.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but Mom always made sure my bun was tight, and my costume fit perfectly.”
I glance over at Mom and am pleased to see the corners of her mouth just barely curving up and her gaze fixed on the device Dana is using to show off the video of her granddaughter.
Mom reaches out and wraps her hands around the sides of the tablet as she watches.
This is more engaged than I’ve seen her in some time, and it fills my heart with happiness.
I keep a hand on the back of the tablet to make sure it doesn’t get damaged if Mom decides she no longer wants to hold it, then I look over at Dana.
“Thank you for sharing this, Dana. My mom loved when I was in dance lessons. For nine years, she carted me back and forth to the studio, tailored my costumes, and sat with rapt attention as an audience of one whenever I wanted to practice at home.”
“Oh boy, I’m betting you were pretty good.” Dana smiles at me.
“I wasn’t too bad, but I don’t do it anymore, not even for stress relief or exercise.
My guess is that if I attempted to get up on my pointe shoes, I would struggle just a bit.
” I pause and glance down at the scene, then watch the dancing for a few seconds.
I peer up at Dana, and she’s watching me, not the videos.
“That looks exhausting,” I tease. “After an hour or two of dancing, I always felt relaxed and had a wonderful night’s sleep. ”
“So, you were a dance mom, huh Hattie?” Dana asks. Even though Mom won’t answer her, I appreciate the effort to include Mom in the conversation.
“Oh yes. Mom was the epitome of a dance mom. At the recitals, she was always there, helping to make sure my hair was perfect and insisting I didn’t need intense makeup to be a lovely ballerina.
I loved that about her when I got old enough to understand it.
Mom always made me feel beautiful, just as I was.
She also taught the other dance moms how to do the perfect bun—held a class and everything. ”
“It sounds like it was something you both enjoyed a tremendous amount.” Dana sets the next video to start for Mom and then peers back at me.
“My daughter loves watching my granddaughter dance. Of course, I’m biased, but I can’t blame her.
I just told her to make sure she doesn’t become one of those mean dance moms like on the TV shows. ”
I chuckle and glance over at Mom, noting that her interest in the videos has come to its end.
Despite this, I’m thrilled she had even a few moments of engagement—even if only a limited amount—in something she enjoyed in the past. I move the tablet out of her reach and take her hand in mine to hold.
I observe her eyes as they roam the room, then she settles, looking in Albert’s direction, and stares off, her expression flat and her minuscule smile gone.
“Every Sunday evening, Mom and I would sit and watch an hour or two of recorded episodes of the shows with dance moms on them. Some of them made us laugh, and some made us cringe. But it was this thing we did together, and while I don’t remember specifics about the episodes, I remember how much I loved those evenings.
Popcorn and snuggling under a blanket with Mom were the best times. ”
I glance over at my mom, and suddenly I’m flooded with emotion as I think about those days.
A quick look over at Dana, who is now holding Albert’s hand, reveals a woman looking at me with compassion and understanding.
The hint of a frown replaces her prior smile, but it’s the softness in her eyes and the glistening that speak to me.
“It’s wonderful that you have those memories, Delaney. Those kinds of memories,” she glances over at Albert for a second, her thumb rubbing his hand, then turns her attention back to me, “Those are the ones that get you through. Those are the things that dementia can’t take from us.”
“That’s true. I try to write as many memories as possible down when they come to me. Sometimes I put them in the notes on my phone. I’m… I’m afraid I’m going to forget them, too.”
Dana shakes her head at me, and the soft smile on her face is comforting.
“You won’t, darling, I promise. If anything, you’ll probably remember them better than most people recall memories from their youth.
You’ve had them front and center in your mind for a while now, solidifying their place there.
You’ll never forget them or how they made you feel. ”
I look at Mom, and I reach up and brush a chunk of loose hair off her face and behind her ear. She hated having her hair in her face. Then, I turn my attention to Dana.
“She’s a great mom. She gave me a lot of wonderful times to recall. If I ever have kids, I hope I’m just like her.”
“Well, I’ve got to say, from what I’ve seen, she’s also got an amazing daughter.
I’m here every day, not having a lot of other things requiring my time.
A lot of the residents here don’t get visitors, or they get them infrequently.
But you’re here all the time, spending precious moments with your mom. ”
I glance down at the table, and a sarcastic chuckle escapes me.
“I don’t think I’m here enough, and I feel terrible about that.
” I look up, but I don’t make eye contact with anyone at the table.
“I-I promised Mom I would keep her home, and I let her down when I couldn’t do it. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough.”
“Young lady, you are here plenty. First of all, did your mother ask you to make that promise, or did you decide it?”
“She never asked me to keep her home. But I wanted to be able to do that for her. Let her live out her life in her own home.”
“I imagine you’re working,” I nod. “And I don’t know if you have a sweetheart.
” She glances over at Albert and smiles, and out of the corner of my eye I catch when she squeezes his hand, then turns her attention back to me.
“But I often wonder if you’re taking enough time for yourself—to live your life to the fullest—because you spend so much time here. ”
“I am busy, but I do love being here with Mom, and you’re right, I don’t have a lot of extra time. The other, I’m… I’m actually not sure if I have a sweetheart. There’s a maybe. I mean, it’s a probably. Okay, a definitely, but we haven’t given it a name.”
Dana's smile grows. “Oh, Delaney, that’s wonderful.”
“Well, I’m not really sure if it's going to last, but it feels like it is. I’m trying not to read too much into it. I also can’t let it interfere too much with everything else I have going on.”
“Well, I would just say not to let yourself make excuses as to why it can't work. Take it day by day, and if you enjoy spending time with him, then it’s worth it.”