My Mom couldn’t tell me she was scared, but I could read it on her face. The worry, the fear, shown clearly in her eyes.
Just days before Christmas, my Mom fell ill, and my Dad and I took her to an urgent care for evaluation. I knew this would be a challenging experience, as we rarely took her out of memory care due to safety concerns. Being in an unfamiliar environment would be frightening for her, as it often is for those living with Alzheimer’s and dementia.
As we waited for the nurse to call us back to the exam room, I could sense her nervousness and unease. My heart broke, knowing she lacked the words to express how she felt or what she needed — my heart broke knowing how scared she must have been.
Feeling helpless at first, I was soon overcome by a strong maternal instinct to protect and comfort her, just as she had done for me throughout my life. I held her hand and gently stroked her face as they took her blood pressure, checked her oxygen and heart rate—standard procedures that would be routine for any healthy individual, but not for my Mom, not for someone living with Alzheimer's.
As they performed more tests, the fear in her eyes intensified. I looked in her eyes assuring her everything would be ok, and made soothing sounds to calm her, just as she did when I was a child. Then, as we waited for the results of the exam, I told her how proud I was of her for getting through the poking and prodding, just as did when I was a child.
In that moment, when I thought my heart would shatter from the weight of my emotions, Mom turned to the two nurses and said, 'Thank you'.
Just like that. A common phrase that is spoken daily yet is so often lost to those with Alzheimer’s. My beautiful Mom managed to escape the grips of the disease, if only for a moment, to express her gratitude to the two medical workers who cared for her. Despite her fears, her hesitation - despite the discomfort of being in an unfamiliar setting, her grace made its way to the surface.
What started as an emotional and difficult day—a day that tested my heart—became a day that will forever live in my memories. It reminded me that love and kindness shine through when you least expect it, even when it seems the odds are stacked against you.
Thank you, Mom, for once again teaching me the value of resilience, gratitude, and connection. Despite this cruel disease and all that it has taken from you, you refuse to let it steal these beautiful parts of who you are, and who you will always be.
Photo: Rahul Pandit - Photography
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