I found this picture in my Facebook memories today, & it resonated with me once again.

You see, in the midst of everything that’s gone on in the past 6-8 months (job changes, job losses, losses of family members, etc.), my husband & I have also been walking through dementia with his mother.

I think the trauma responses have finally quieted enough that the reality of my mother-in-law’s condition is finally hitting me.

I married The Golden Child—I married The Baby of the family, & those who attended my wedding may remember that when my stepdad got to the whole, “if there’s anyone who has anything to say about why these two should not be married,” etc (which I begged him NOT to say, but he said he had to), I physically turned my body & stared down my Mother-In-Law, because if anyone was going to say anything, it was her. 😊Everyone laughed…except us…😊

 I knew what I was doing and where I was marrying into, & I knew I had my work cut out for me…but she also knew I loved her son, & that he loved me. It has to be a hard thing, to marry your son off…Lord knows, someday, the shoe will be on the other foot, & I will have a young bride staring down at me, LOL! Oh, honey, I AM NOT THE ONE!!! 

That being said, my MIL & I had some transitions to walk through. We learned, though—after all, at the bottom of everything, was the fact that we both love David ferociously. I began to learn about being a wife and eventually, a mother; she began to learn that no, I’m not a great cook, but I can bake, I can stain a deck, & I can wheel her through a mall like nobody’s business. 😊

My MIL could try someone, but she could also teach a thing or two. When doctors told her she’d never hold her knitting needles again, she’d crochet blankets for days. She’d make the most creative jewelry, & she’d proudly show me all of her pieces every time we came over. She’d make beautiful beaded ornaments, & she’d share her handicrafts with everyone that visited. She constantly made things & shared them, and talked about how much people liked her colorful designs. I love creative people, & I loved to see what she’d made…I have so many things she’s made, & I’m grateful. I shared things I made with her as well, & I have so many fun memories of family get-togethers with everyone at her house…

As time has gone on, though, dementia pulled my father-in-law away from us & made family events a bit more challenging. My MIL became basically confined to bed, and is now in a nursing home facility where her dementia has taken over…The loss of who I knew Vinita to be, with the behaviors & outbursts she’s been prone to having, have made me advocate for her even more strongly with the hospice and nursing home teams, & she is now, thanks to hospice, getting her medications more consistently. This means she has more stable days, and has less bouts of tears and anxious behavior.

This doesn’t mean her dementia is resolved, though; yesterday, the social worker said she thought she was a child. What is that like, to think you’re a child, but to be in the body of someone in their late 70’s? How confusing that must be…to sit & think about it from her perspective, really hit me emotionally this week.

At some point, my mother-in-law will not know who my husband is.

This realization breaks my heart. I find my faith challenged in this situation—I mean, why? Why does she have to walk this walk? Why wouldn’t Jesus just take her home and give her rest?!? I don’t understand, & I’m trying to take the deepest of breaths to ask Him even though I know He’s under no obligation to divulge his plans.

The social worker said when she came in yesterday, that my MIL thought she was a child, & that she went on-&-on about the goodness of God. “Ms. Vinita had a good day.”

On the bad days, she cries & asks Jesus to heal her body….

On the lucid days, she asks Jesus to take her Home…

The picture that came up in my Facebook memories speaks to how I find encouragement with “Ms. Vinita” even now…on the good days, we remember His goodness. On the bad days, we cry out to Him. Every day, we thank Him and we focus on Him, regardless of how we feel or what our minds tell us…

I know we’re saying goodbye to someone who is still here…I still don’t have that reconciled in my brain. What I have burned into my spirit, though, is that Ms. Vinita’s legacy will always be that no matter what we’re enduring, we take it to the Lord in ways that defy understanding & expectation. I find myself encouraged in my faith even as I’m struggling to make things make sense, by her example. We call on Jesus…in the good, in the bad, and in the in-between.

I hope when my time comes, that even a small part of that is in my legacy to leave.

We love you, Mom Cooley…we’re thankful to Jesus for how He holds you in His hands…