Ada's Days

Days come and go so fast. But I often wonder how fast they go for Ada. She gave up her will to live long ago, and now, for reasons no one can explain, she is being held alive against her will.

She sits in her chair, like she’s on an airline, waiting for her next meal… and some kind of airline disaster that will result in her imminent death.

“It’s your birthday in a week, Ada,” I’ll say, trying to cheer her up.
She will shrug her shoulders and say, in her thick Polish accent “I don’t know if I’ll be alive.”

“Well, God must have plans for you here,” I’ll remind her.
“My life is over,” she will repeat and sigh. “There’s no use, anymore. I used to have everything, now I have nothing. And soon I will be dead.”

There is no convincing her, when she’s in one of these moods. Get Pollyanna with her, and she’s likely to smack you on the back of the head.

The only thing I can do, is something very distracting - like putting my hair in a pony tail. “A shvantz!” she calls it. Suddenly her mood will turn to anger and she’ll yell “WHY DO YOU HAVE YOUR HAIR IN A SHVANTZ! IT LOOKS STUPID!”

Never fails to amuse me, and I’d rather see her feisty than depressed.**

I have a feeling the baby boomers are going to save us all from getting dementia. There's no way they will want to go out like this. I hope they find a cure!


** I’ve since learned that talking about suicide is very common in people with dementia. And I’ve also learned that it’s important not to aggravate them. So no more pony tails for me.