Jeff Richardson

Topic: Dementia and Memory

My mother had a massive stroke 5 years ago. Her life and mine changed that day. This smart, successful, active woman suddenly was trapped in an aging body that no longer worked fully. This digital art and text is me reflecting on our new life.

A young widow raised a little autistic boy who liked to draw. 

Her three jobs kept us fed. But the only job that mattered to her had no paycheck. Mother, provider, protector. 

I never could have achieved anything in life without that huge safety net of unconditional love and fierce support. So many times she had to fight for me when I didn’t know what to do. 

UNTITLED

She now sits in her room. Everyday wondering what city she is in. 

And every day I answer her questions like it is the first time I’ve heard them. 

Some days I think it is over and that you are gone, forever. Then you will have a “good” day and are clear enough to realize how bad things have become. 

I cry with you when you tell me how you never wanted to end up this way. 

I see “Mom” on the incoming phone screen, again. 

It is Ok. 

If you need to tell me you had that nightmare, a memory from a little girl about her doggie, I’ll listen. 

So much Fear. 

You block the door at night to keep your jewelry box safe from that caretaker who got caught stealing. 

You take your meals alone, in solitude to avoid socializing in the dining hall because you are afraid to look “dumb”. No one in this life could ever say that you are Dumb. You never say dumb or crazy things, you just can’t remember. 

So much Fear. 

I wish I could soothe your fear the way you did for me as a little boy. 

All the recent memories evaporate, Now the old ones are starting to slip. 

You ask who are my brother and sister-in-law, I know it is only a matter of time before you pretend to know who I am. 

You who lived the most giving sacrificing life, you deserve better, I wish I could be more of who you have shown yourself to be.