Do people with dementia have value?

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Fifty years ago today, my grandmother died. For the last several years of her life, she suffered from dementia. It was probably Alzheimer’s Syndrome, but in 1961 an accurate diagnosis was only possible with an autopsy. Grandma lived in the same house from the early 1920’s and in her final illness, she lived with one of her unmarried daughters who worked in a factory. We lived next door to grandma and her step-grandson lived on the other side. His oldest child was a son my age and we were in school together. When grandma would wander off, my brother, my cousin, and I would get on our bikes and look for her. We almost always found her walking toward our church. It was only four blocks away and there were limited ways to get there. She was determined, but small, and old, and she did not walk very fast.

Around Thanksgiving of 1959 her doctor informed the family that she would live only a few days and her other children came from all over the country to say goodbye. That doctor way underestimated how tough my grandmother was. She had married my grandfather after his first wife died of tuberculosis leaving him with five small children. The oldest was eight. Apparently caring for five small stepchildren was not enough of a challenge for grandma, because she had nine more children with my grandfather. She endured the death of a stepson from the influenza epidemic of 1918 and the near death of her first son, my father. She endured the Great Depression and the failure of her husband’s business. In 1945 she lost her youngest son just after his 19th birthday. He died from wounds when his airborne division liberated a Japanese prison camp in the Phillipines.

I don’t think grandma ever got out of bed again after that Thanksgiving. We visited her almost every day because we were such good kids, and maybe also because my aunt’s factory job was in a candy factory. There were always grocery bags filled with candy in her living room. Grandma was always in bed. She would mumble something for a few seconds, then stop for a few seconds. That behavior was repeated all day long for 20 months.

At last I had a conversation with my aunt about grandma:
“I can’t understand grandma”
“That’s because she is speaking in German. That is the language her parents spoke at home when she was a child.”
“So what is she saying?”
“She is saying, ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death.’”
“Why doesn’t she say the first part?”
“Because that is the angel’s part.”

Not only was grandma in prayer for her last 20 months, but somehow she was being led in prayer. Her doctor had no medical explanation for how she lived so long, and no explanation for how she could be led in prayer, but partly because of my grandmother, that doctor returned to the Church.
 
Gd blessed you with a beautiful grandmother! My dad died 10 yrs ago and had alzheimers. My mother suffers from dementia today. Each person, regardless of physical or mental illness, ability or inability, each soul is precious in the Eyes of Gd, who created them in His Image. Gd loves unconditionally and we have been given life to learn how to love others unconditionally in this school of love. Many times over the years, my heart has been filled with pain observing the deterioration of my parents and facing a sense of prolonged loss, often alone, while others who should have been there to help me, abandoned me. My comfort comes from Jesus words in Matthew 25: 34-40. In Gd’s eyes, people who are naked, sick, in prison, hungry/thirsty, strangers - all these have value. Whatever we do to them, we do to Jesus Himself (Matt 25:40) May Gd abundantly bless you in your walk with Him and may our Blessed Mother Mary always intercede for you.
 
What a touching and beautiful recounting of a lovely lovely woman. Well as you see, you’ve answered your question which is a resounding YES! People with dementia certainly do have much value!

I personally sometimes pray that I will have all my faculties about me when I grow old, should it be God’s will that I do grow old for fear that I will “forget” our Lord. But, now I see that it is possible to come closer to God with that condition too. Thank you for sharing. I suppose that now I should pray that should I lose those faculties, that I become like your beautiful grandmom 🙂
 
Trader,
A wonderful testimony. Thank you for sharing…

When I read the title of the thread I was expecting something different and it started my thinking about how wonderful and valuable my DW is to me even though she suffers from advanced dementia (Alzheimer’s).

She has taught be so much about courage, patience, humility, forbearance, Love, care and service than I could ever have learned in my lifetime.
One smile from her, a hug, a kiss, lights up my life even more so than when she was healthy.

She is truly a blessed Child of god and I am blessed to be her husband and caregiver.

Peace
James
 
Trader said:
Fifty years ago today, my grandmother died. For the last several years of her life, she suffered from dementia. It was probably Alzheimer’s Syndrome, but in 1961 an accurate diagnosis was only possible with an autopsy. Grandma lived in the same house from the early 1920’s and in her final illness, she lived with one of her unmarried daughters who worked in a factory. We lived next door to grandma and her step-grandson lived on the other side. His oldest child was a son my age and we were in school together. When grandma would wander off, my brother, my cousin, and I would get on our bikes and look for her. We almost always found her walking toward our church. It was only four blocks away and there were limited ways to get there. She was determined, but small, and old, and she did not walk very fast.

Around Thanksgiving of 1959 her doctor informed the family that she would live only a few days and her other children came from all over the country to say goodbye. That doctor way underestimated how tough my grandmother was. She had married my grandfather after his first wife died of tuberculosis leaving him with five small children. The oldest was eight. Apparently caring for five small stepchildren was not enough of a challenge for grandma, because she had nine more children with my grandfather. She endured the death of a stepson from the influenza epidemic of 1918 and the near death of her first son, my father. She endured the Great Depression and the failure of her husband’s business. In 1945 she lost her youngest son just after his 19th birthday. He died from wounds when his airborne division liberated a Japanese prison camp in the Phillipines.

I don’t think grandma ever got out of bed again after that Thanksgiving. We visited her almost every day because we were such good kids, and maybe also because my aunt’s factory job was in a candy factory. There were always grocery bags filled with candy in her living room. Grandma was always in bed. She would mumble something for a few seconds, then stop for a few seconds. That behavior was repeated all day long for 20 months.

At last I had a conversation with my aunt about grandma:
“I can’t understand grandma”
“That’s because she is speaking in German. That is the language her parents spoke at home when she was a child.”
“So what is she saying?”
“She is saying, ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death.’”
“Why doesn’t she say the first part?”
“Because that is the angel’s part.”

Not only was grandma in prayer for her last 20 months, but somehow she was being led in prayer. Her doctor had no medical explanation for how she lived so long, and no explanation for how she could be led in prayer, but partly because of my grandmother, that doctor returned to the Church.
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:clapping::clapping::clapping: Thank you 🙂
 
I have often wondered about what state these people really are in. I have sometimes thought of it as getting Purgatory over with early.

My wife, an RN, was the charge nurse for an Alzheimer’s unit for some time. She would tell the most amazing things sometimes. There are stages to it, of course, an there is an anxiety and aggression stage. Ultimately, they “become as little children”. But in between there are transitions that sometimes surprise.

One of her patients was a very wealthy and powerful man who was in fairly early but easily discernible stages. His wife paid for a private room just for him, and furnished it very well. At first, he knew at times she was a nurse and had the combination for the door of the unit, and uttered veiled threats that he would sue her if she didn’t let him out to go home. At times, he thought she was his employee, of whom he had had many in the past. On one occasion, he directed my wife to “fire” another patient who “wouldn’t work”. Then he had her “fire” more of them. But late on, he began to believe he was losing his business, and confided to her that she was the only loyal employee he had left. Finally, shortly before “becoming a little child”, he asked her for a job…anything…cleaning the floor…anything. He told her he didn’t have enough money to eat since his business went under (which it hadn’t) and would do anything.

There are things going on with that disease that we don’t really know about.
 
Thank you for sharing this beautiful story of your grandmother, especially the part about the angel’s part in the Hail Mary. Now I see the prayer in a whole knew light. No wonder a leader says the first half (the words of the Archangel Gabriel and Mary’s sister Elizabeth) while the people respond with the petition in the latter half. Might seem trivial, but this blew my mind.
 
You might like the message of the book, “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.” In it, a psychiatrist talks about some of the patients he has had over the years. Each of them have a different but profound mental handicap, and in his therapy sessions with them he comes to see the inherent value of each of them, even for those whose conditions do not improve.
 
Today is the 55th anniversary of my grandmother’s death. I revived this thread mostly so we can reflect on how far the culture of death has progressed in the last five years. We may understand more about some diseases in the last 55 years, but seem to have lost any sense of the meaning of suffering,

Assisted suicide and euthanasia are readily accepted by a growing number of people, not just to end suffering, but to gain a false sense of control. We are not in control of the universe, God is.
 
Trader said:
Today is the 55th anniversary of my grandmother’s death. I revived this thread mostly so we can reflect on how far the culture of death has progressed in the last five years. We may understand more about some diseases in the last 55 years, but seem to have lost any sense of the meaning of suffering,

Assisted suicide and euthanasia are readily accepted by a growing number of people, not just to end suffering, but to gain a false sense of control. We are not in control of the universe, God is.
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Thank you, Trader.
 
Trader said:
Fifty years ago today, my grandmother died. For the last several years of her life, she suffered from dementia. It was probably Alzheimer’s Syndrome, but in 1961 an accurate diagnosis was only possible with an autopsy. Grandma lived in the same house from the early 1920’s and in her final illness, she lived with one of her unmarried daughters who worked in a factory. We lived next door to grandma and her step-grandson lived on the other side. His oldest child was a son my age and we were in school together. When grandma would wander off, my brother, my cousin, and I would get on our bikes and look for her. We almost always found her walking toward our church. It was only four blocks away and there were limited ways to get there. She was determined, but small, and old, and she did not walk very fast.

Around Thanksgiving of 1959 her doctor informed the family that she would live only a few days and her other children came from all over the country to say goodbye. That doctor way underestimated how tough my grandmother was. She had married my grandfather after his first wife died of tuberculosis leaving him with five small children. The oldest was eight. Apparently caring for five small stepchildren was not enough of a challenge for grandma, because she had nine more children with my grandfather. She endured the death of a stepson from the influenza epidemic of 1918 and the near death of her first son, my father. She endured the Great Depression and the failure of her husband’s business. In 1945 she lost her youngest son just after his 19th birthday. He died from wounds when his airborne division liberated a Japanese prison camp in the Phillipines.

I don’t think grandma ever got out of bed again after that Thanksgiving. We visited her almost every day because we were such good kids, and maybe also because my aunt’s factory job was in a candy factory. There were always grocery bags filled with candy in her living room. Grandma was always in bed. She would mumble something for a few seconds, then stop for a few seconds. That behavior was repeated all day long for 20 months.

At last I had a conversation with my aunt about grandma:
“I can’t understand grandma”
“That’s because she is speaking in German. That is the language her parents spoke at home when she was a child.”
“So what is she saying?”
“She is saying, ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death.’”
“Why doesn’t she say the first part?”
“Because that is the angel’s part.”

Not only was grandma in prayer for her last 20 months, but somehow she was being led in prayer. Her doctor had no medical explanation for how she lived so long, and no explanation for how she could be led in prayer, but partly because of my grandmother, that doctor returned to the Church.
Click to expand...
That is such a beautiful story of a loving family.

My mother died seven years ago just two weeks shy of 98. She was a gift to her great grandchildren and her great great grandchildren. At her funeral they all brought flowers up for her.

My mother-in-law died this year at the age of 95. The last days of her life she was surrounded by her family with all the children. The children were in an out of her room at the nursing home. In the last week of her life she and I were able to tell each other how much we love one another.

My father-in-law is 98 and is dying. Members of the family with children try to visit him at least once a week.

All three suffered with some form of dementia. The very old people have so much to give in their old age. They teach compassion and love of family to the children. They teach that old age is a natural part of life and not something to be afraid of. They teach that live is beautiful to the very end.

We do not know the journey that their souls are making as they prepare for death. I know that four years ago my father-in-law would have welcomed “death with dignity” but in the last four years he and I have grown closer. In his weakness he has come to appreciate the care his son has given him. He has seen much more of the children and because of who he is, we as a family have been drawn closer together. He was always a man of dignity and in his weakness he has remained a man of dignity.

He is tired. He is read to go. But he still has a strong life force and he still loves his family.
 
Could not believe the question was even asked, and so the thread relieved me… Thank you
 
Sorry but whenever I see this thread title in the queue, the term “Soilent Green” keeps popping into my mind.
 
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