My mom, Dorothy, was a beautiful soul and everyone in our Pennsylvania small town loved her. She was a hairdresser with her shop right in our home, attached to the kitchen. Dot, as everyone called her, would often ponder why so many people came to her for haircuts and we would say, “Mom, they like your company. Not only do you just charge $5 for haircut, they looked forward to chatting with you.” It wasn’t an ordinary beauty shop because Mom was anything but ordinary. She would do special things for people like pick them up for their haircuts or drive them home if they had car trouble. And, there were often fresh cookies or at the end of the day, a cold beer!

 

My dad passed away at age 50 so my mom was alone and took everything on. She was a tough cookie that way, always taking time for her patrons plus spending so much time with her grandchildren. My brother lived nearby so she was with them a lot. When she was in her 80’s, we started to notice changes in her. She was starting to get a bit confused about things. 

But she was very independent. She didn’t want us to have to take care of her because we had our own lives and families. She never asked my brother to do a thing, even when some things started to fall apart in the old home where she lived and worked for most of her married life. We would say, “Mom, you have a son who is an electrician.” But she would say, “He has his own family and I don’t want to lean on him.”

 

She ended up going to our local long-term care facility which was her wish. I am so grateful for the staff there. They loved her and spent so much time with her. They called her Speedy because she loved to take her walker and go quickly up and down the halls. There was a daycare associated with the home for children of the staff and my mom loved going there and reading to the little ones. She had so many friends who visited her, including friends of my brother and me. Small towns are wonderful that way.

 

As her disease progressed, she was less able to do the things she loved. She began to get lost on her trips up and down the halls and it was time for her to move to memory care. It was sad to watch her decline, not knowing her granddaughters and not being able to take care of herself. During this time, I would go and just sit with her and do her nails. Even though she didn’t say much, we knew she loved us. One of the last times I saw her, I bent over and kissed her before we left and said “I love you Mom” and she said “I know”.

 

She was 94 when she passed away and had lived a good life. One of things that was hard for me is that she was in Pennsylvania and I was here in Edwards. I traveled to see her as often as possible, but it was hard to not be there every day. Since my brother lived nearby, he was her primary caregiver and I am forever grateful to him. For those going through this experience of decline with a loved one, I found it helpful to realize that they are still the person that you grew up loving and to cherish the memories you have with them.

 

This is why I walk, to honor my mom. If you would like to join my team or donate to the Beaver Creek Bombers, visit act.alz.org/rockymountain and I hope to see you on September 19th!