“Hey Mary! How are you today?” I greeted her as I approached her room from the hallway.
Her typical smile absent, she answered me, “I don’t know. Where’s Edwin?”
Mary’s husband of 70+ years passed away four years ago. Mary is 100 years old; she’s earned a bit of forgetfulness.
Usually when she asks about him, I can distract her. I’ll say something like “Well, I bet he’s in the same place he was yesterday,” or “I don’t know, but let’s you and I visit while it’s just us.” That day, nothing worked.
Telling the truth
My mother was her mother’s caregiver for years and I learned a lot from how they interacted. Grandmama would forget that Granddaddy had died and get it in her head that he had run off with another woman. My mother would say calmly and clearly, “No, Mother. Daddy died. You were with him the whole time. He would never leave you if he had the choice.”
This meant Grandmama experienced fresh grief; but it was honest grief, not that fretful confusion that furrowed her brow and knotted her hands.
So that day with Mary, when gentle redirections failed, I told her the truth.
Edwin in heaven
“Well Mary, Edwin lives in heaven now.”
She looked up at me, eyes focusing. “When did that happen?”
“It’s been a little awhile now. He’s probably already started a Bible study up there now. You know 
Edwin.”
Often, I tell her one time and she moves on. I’ve been visiting her for several years now and I know how to get her out of the loop that so often grips people with dementia. I ask her about one of her favorite topics, mention people she knows and loves, or play music from the list I’ve created for her on my phone.
A good story
That day was different. She asked over and over again. I answered her many times.
“Actually Mary, Edwin lives in heaven now and he’s fixing up a place for you to come join him.”
“Edwin is in heaven now. Probably on some heavenly beach, maybe swimming in the crystal seas.”
At one point I said, “Edwin lives in heaven now. He’s been there for about three or four years, and when he passed, you were sitting right beside him, holding his hand. The whole time, he knew that you loved him and he never felt alone.”
She looked up at me, took my hand in hers, eyes shining, and said, “You’ve told me a good story, and I appreciate that.”
And then, when the reality hit home, she asked me tearfully, “Oh, what am I going to do now?”
I said, “Well, some days you’re gonna be sad. Some days you’re gonna be happy and then sad again. But the whole time we’re gonna be right here with you.”
Prepared for and cared for
Mary squeezed my hand, holding it with one, patting it with the other.
“Edwin has provided a good place for you Mary. You’re safe and they love you here.”
She interrupted me, looking straight in my eyes and said, “They are so good to me here. They really are.”
Soon the worker came in to tell the residents it was time for lunch. She asked if I wanted to walk Mary to the cafeteria.
I said, “Come on Mary, we won’t walk to the dining room, we’ll dance!” I started playing music from her playlist. I said Hello, Mary Lou! Goodbye heart! Sweet Mary Lou I’m so in love with you!
She pulled herself up using her walker, and off we went. She danced all the way down the hall. At 100 and a half years old!
When we made it to her table, I hugged her and told her I loved her. She pulled me close and said, “I love you too. And I always will.”
Click here to see Mary dancing down the hall. https://www.instagram.com/reel/Co07EFtAID7/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet
