We realized something was wrong when we went to her house and saw a few months’ worth of bills laying on the desk. This is only significant if you know that she spent many years running a pediatrician’s office, and every bill that came in was filed as soon as it was paid. She’s wicked smart and incredibly social, so on our too-brief visits to see her she had fooled us fairly easily. However, when she traveled with us over the holidays we had our first glimpse of her away from her home turf. The unpaid bills were now evidence of the journey that was just beginning.
Though we no longer lived in Dallas, Peggy still lived closest of the children — it’s a lot easier to get to Dallas from Houston or Austin than from Tucson or Seattle. It didn’t take the doctors too long to give us the news we did not want to hear. Alzheimer’s is never what you want to hear.
What followed is what so many families have already gone through. Finding a place for her to live that met our picky standards and had a great quality of care. Cleaning out a family home of nearly fifty years, then fixing it up to sell. Watching Peggy battle tirelessly to qualify for the VA benefit that her father earned serving in World War II. The friends asking why we are doing this “to” Mary.
Finally, the deterioration got to the point where Mary no longer could live in her own apartment, even in a memory care facility. We made the decision to move her to a wonderful place here in Baton Rouge so Peggy could be with her every day. We jokingly referred to it as “South Dallas” since Peggy’s mother has never lived anywhere else in her life. Enduring the physical struggles that mirror the mental deterioration, but always with the same sweet spirit. And always recognizing Peggy. And me.
Once she turned the corner on loving me she was all in. And until the day she died she loved me with all her heart.
I sang at her funeral today, and for the first time I could not get through the song I have sung countless times. I was overcome with the thought that this wonderful lady was now fully healed and hanging out with her blessed savior. Fortunately, the congregation knew the words and sang for me when I could not. It was the kind of moment Mary would have loved. No, it was a moment Mary did love. And I loved her.
