The Miracle of the Easter Eggs and Ham

The last time I went to North Carolina the mommie surprised me by saying she wanted to move to Hood River. I knew she was in decline and was happy that she was going to be closer. I also knew it was going to be very hard for her to move away from the little house that she loved so much.
I found her an apartment in an assisted living place. I did everything I could to make it look like her home, which was not really possible. I brought her back to the nest every weekend. I had seen the beginning of her decline the year before. I got her to quit driving by throwing temper tantrums. I think she knew she was in decline but neither of really understood how bad it was.
Dementia is insidious. There was a learning curve in which I always felt behind. The last year she was in NC she stopped being social. I didn't understand that it was part of the decline. I thought she was a little depressed. She had always been social. Always made friends. But she stopped going out in NC and never went out in her new place.
One weekend I noticed some blisters on her leg. I showed the nurse and a long story full of bad faith, lies and confusion began. Most of which I won't write here now. Maybe someday. One blister became an abscess. She was put on strong antibiotics that caused so many problems. Her confusion got worse and worse. She stopped wanting to eat or drink, even water. She flinched when I made her sip a bit of water. Now I know that it was probably a sign of Thrush but I didn't know that then. And the long list of medical professionals who were visiting never looked in her mouth. They were telling me she might die. I was not feeling that. So I asked every person every question I could. I moved in with her.
More bad faith. More lies. More confusion.
After a short hospital stay in which the Thrush was diagnosed and treated. And a UTI was diagnosed and treated. I brought her back to the nest. I still struggled to get her to eat and drink.
On Easter I made myself a plate of eggs and ham and sat beside her to eat. She looked over and asked what it was. I told her and asked if she'd like some and ... she did. She ate my breakfast. All of it. I was so relieved.
From then on I could get her to eat eggs, oatmeal, chicken broth, OJ. Little by little she came back.
I found her another facility but this time it was memory care. She was so diminished. I felt like she needed that level of care. But the day she moved in she rallied and that rally continued. I talked the facility manager into moving her to their assisted living side. I hired home health care to give her extra help in the morning and I was there every afternoon. I still brought her back to the nest of the weekend. For a short time things were pretty good.
But the decline continued.
Mandy had to help me figure out how old she would have been on her her birthday this year. I couldn't do it. Sometimes the pain of those last years is so present it seems like it all just happened. But it's been three more birthdays. Three more Easters. And in November it will have been three years.
For me grief doesn't go away. It's part of how I am. That doesn't mean I'm always weepy. But I cry more than I use to and at times that seems so random. I just cry. She wasn't the first experience of grief in my life and I know she won't be the last. I'm just trying to hold in a way that doesn't exacerbate it. Or make it into a token. It's just. Grief.
I will eat eggs and ham tomorrow.