Mum Proves She Can Still Remember Things

Mum Proves She Can Still Remember Things

Mum can go off on a tangent. Sometimes she talks about people and occasions and, because we usually know the background to what and to whom she is referring, we can work out where she is in her mind.

I know carers are trained to agree with what clients say,  even if it is incorrect, but I have a different perspective, especially relating to someone like Mum. Because we know her so well, my belief is that she should be guided gently back to what is true.

Sometimes, Mum says, "Where's my mother?" and I do not see the point of saying, "Oh, she's out shopping." Some long time ago, I heard a carer saying this to Mum; Mum got a bit agitated, and said, "No, she isn't - she can't be.....!" so it was obvious that reply was not going to satisfy her. I remember stepping in and explaining that Grandma had died in 1985, and that she was buried in Liverpool. Mum asked a few more questions about what had happened to her mother, and when I told her how Grandma had had a fall and broken her hip, Mum said, "Oh, and is that what killed her?"

"Yes," I said, "that contributed to it."

That satisfied Mum, and was the end of the matter, but it proved to me that, somewhere in Mum's head, are true memories of things that happened in the past, and it is better to help her remember accurately, rather than just fobbing her off with banal, untrue assurances.

Yesterday evening was a case in point. Mum was really "on the ball," and talking animatedly about her family, and when they lived in Liverpool.

"Yes," she said, "it was very sad. My elder brother - his name was Austin - he got pneumonia. He was only twenty when he died."

The carers made very sympathetic responses, and I looked in and added, "Mum is absolutely spot on. That is exactly what happened!"

Mum then carried on talking about her parents, and how her father had died, five years later, and was buried in Liverpool, with his son.

After that, she went on to happier themes, and chatted merrily away about her younger brother, John - and was very much in elder sister mode.

"John is 3 years younger than I am, " said Mum, "and he's 95 now. He lives in Brisbane, and he's looking for a wife!"

(And so he is - or at least, since he was widowed 15 years ago, he would love to find a nice lady companion, with whom he can go out for lunch, and enjoy sensible conversation once or twice a week!)

"How old are you?" asked one of the carers.

"I'm 98!" said Mum.

I think that exchange may prove my point that, at least in Mum's case, clear memories can come to the fore, and if on some days she is confused, honesty is the best policy.