A Walk in the Park
When my mom first came to stay at my home, she could walk fairly well. It was both a good and bad thing. It was good because this provided her some level of independence and provided me some sense of normalcy. I have always known my mother to be able to walk. Today, her legs are weak. Her cognitive disabilities do not allow her to ambulated any longer.
A person with dementia who can walk poses challenges because they could easily walk away and get lost. Before she arrived at my home, one of my host students from Italy put safety locks on the top of the door so she could not easily get out of the house. Whenever she became very anxious in the latter part of the day (called sundowning), she would want to get out of the house to go home or to go see her momma or her daddy. She was vigilant at making this happen. I, along with the caregivers, had to use proper techniques in attempting to halt her departure. I wanted to make sure she did not get out of the house. However, we had to balance that with the need not to increase her agitation. I also registered her with the Sheriff's department Take Me Home Program. This is a program where you input your loved one's information in the Sheriff’s database along with a recent photo. If they happen to get lost and found by the police, then they can be easily identified and returned to their loved ones.
Now that she is no longer walking independently, we assist with any remaining ability to walk and as well as transfer her from bed to wheelchair and vice versa. I attempt to get her up and moving as much as possible to stimulate blood circulation, assist with digestion, and prevent bedsores.
One day when we went for a walk, my neighbor, Michael, saw us walking down the street. He stopped us to meet my mother. The next day, he brought us some pastries and shared how he used to walk to the park with his mother who had recently passed away. He said when he saw us, it brought back so many memories. Oh, how he wishes he could walk with her just one more time. Every time Michael would see me, he would ask about my mom and bring her pastries to the house from time to time. How sweet and how rare these days.
I now miss walking with my mom to the park. The first time we went, she would walk the entire way to the park. On the way back, she would be tired. The walks became shorter and shorter. As her ability to ambulated decreased, her disinterest in walking to the park became more prominent.
