29 Aug 2010

Orphaned by Alzheimer's Disease

On the day I married, I took my father's arm for him to walk me down the aisle. He paused, looked deep into my eyes and said, "I have a daughter, you know. She isn't here, though."

The diagnosis of Alzheimer's disease happened two years later, but we had all known that there was something wrong for quite a while. In some ways, his disconnection from the family and the rest of the world was an extension of the way he had always been. My father had served in the second World War and I for one believed that his mind had never returned.  He had a way of closing himself off from people, and from high emotions especially. I learned not to expect love from him in a conventional way. My mother tells me that he loved me dearly as a small child, but sadly I have no memory of these times.


When the memories that make up your relationship with another individual are gone, where does that leave you? When the illness is of the mind you are not free to mourn as the body they inhabit still lives - after a fashion.


No-one can teach you how to react when this happens to someone you love. I can only tell you that I learned to deal with it through rituals of remembrance and love.


A ritual of remembrance

Take a pure white candle, and place a memento of the person with whom you wish to connect. A photograph works well. Meditate on the memento. Hold it in your hands. Tell that person how much they mean to you, and allow your thoughts to carry those emotions over to the flame. Spend time remembering any good moments you can. When you have finished, extinguish the flame. Put the candle away safely. When, at some later time, you have an encounter with that person and you feel sad, dim all other lights and light up the candle once more.  Let the light from the candle remind you of the emotions you once shared together. You can grieve here. The flame will absorb your tears and your sadness, and give you strength to carry on.


"I am not my memories. I am my dreams.” - Terry Hostetler

http://alzheimers.org.uk
http://www.warriorprogramme.org.uk



1 comment:

Susan Larison Danz said...

Ursula,

So beautifully stated. Thank you for sharing the depth of feeling that so many of us can personally relate to, as well as the ritual to assist.

Many blessings,
Susan

The Source - a manual of everyday magic - publication date March 2011 USA, UK, France and Italy


This blog is about how I allowed magic to enter my life and learned to embrace my Inner Witch. Here I will share the ways in which you can too - if you choose to live magically.

Join with me and others as we journey towards the Source of magic together.




29 Aug 2010

Orphaned by Alzheimer's Disease

On the day I married, I took my father's arm for him to walk me down the aisle. He paused, looked deep into my eyes and said, "I have a daughter, you know. She isn't here, though."

The diagnosis of Alzheimer's disease happened two years later, but we had all known that there was something wrong for quite a while. In some ways, his disconnection from the family and the rest of the world was an extension of the way he had always been. My father had served in the second World War and I for one believed that his mind had never returned.  He had a way of closing himself off from people, and from high emotions especially. I learned not to expect love from him in a conventional way. My mother tells me that he loved me dearly as a small child, but sadly I have no memory of these times.


When the memories that make up your relationship with another individual are gone, where does that leave you? When the illness is of the mind you are not free to mourn as the body they inhabit still lives - after a fashion.


No-one can teach you how to react when this happens to someone you love. I can only tell you that I learned to deal with it through rituals of remembrance and love.


A ritual of remembrance

Take a pure white candle, and place a memento of the person with whom you wish to connect. A photograph works well. Meditate on the memento. Hold it in your hands. Tell that person how much they mean to you, and allow your thoughts to carry those emotions over to the flame. Spend time remembering any good moments you can. When you have finished, extinguish the flame. Put the candle away safely. When, at some later time, you have an encounter with that person and you feel sad, dim all other lights and light up the candle once more.  Let the light from the candle remind you of the emotions you once shared together. You can grieve here. The flame will absorb your tears and your sadness, and give you strength to carry on.


"I am not my memories. I am my dreams.” - Terry Hostetler

http://alzheimers.org.uk
http://www.warriorprogramme.org.uk



1 comment:

Susan Larison Danz said...

Ursula,

So beautifully stated. Thank you for sharing the depth of feeling that so many of us can personally relate to, as well as the ritual to assist.

Many blessings,
Susan