My Mom was constantly losing things. I was beginning to tire of searching her apartment for lost small items, like toothpaste, laundry detergent (lost in scoopfuls), and other daily necessities. I thought that she was merely forgetful of using items, or putting them away in other places.

It was all very gradual. A lost Santa hat was one that she made quite a fuss about. She began to accuse people in her apartment building. The building supervisor was an elderly lady named Sally (name changed for privacy reasons). She had a son and daughter who lived in the same building.

Mom began to accuse Sally and her children of coming into her apartment, taking small things including food and rearranging other items so that she couldn't find them. I reasoned with her, I searched the apartment, and listened to her complain. It didn't make sense to me that someone would enter her apartment for such small incidental items.

Several of Mom's friends lived in the same building, and they were aware of the changes in my mother's thinking and attitude. They worried about her, and occasionally they would let me know of things that they noticed.

In public and at church, she seemed very normal. She volunteered to help fold and stuff bulletins for me on Fridays at church, went to quilting sessions at MCC, and was active in Bible classes and outings with her friends. She was generally happy. Especially happy of course, when she saw Dan at church. She was positive that he wanted to marry her. I was convinced by her when he and his mother passed down the exit aisle after the service, and he smiled in our direction. 

I encouraged her to write him a letter and enquire about any interest. Eventually she did this, and she received a response letter, very strongly indicating that he had no intentions toward her. At first she was disappointed, but then convinced herself that he would change his mind, and that he was still sitting in his car on the street in the evenings with his headlights on, to let her know that he was watching.

The "thefts" in her apartment gradually increased. I did all that I could to help, but nothing worked. Her accusations of the building supervisor and her family increased and became more public to the point that Sally was becoming very annoyed with my mother. Mom's friends assured Sally that it wasn't personal, and that my mother was beginning to change mentally.

Thankfully, Mom and I shared the same doctor. Heather Domke was updated by me when I attended appointments with Mom. It came to a point when the doctor recommended that Mom be tested for dementia or alzheimers.

It wasn't easy to convince Mom to be tested. I told her that it was just a memory test, and she often became agitated that I would accuse her of forgetting things. She reminded me that she had been a nurse, and still had a perfect memory. She even accused me of being more forgetful than her.

She hesitantly took the test, insisting to me as she answered the questions, that she was perfectly normal. The person testing her was very kind and helpful. As a result, Dr. Heather told me that Mom had early signs of dementia. It was a medical confirmation for me, as I had been sure that this was the direction we were taking.

Telling her siblings was another matter. Her brother Cornelius Derksen was a doctor, and when Mom was at family gatherings, he saw that she was perfectly normal and happy. I had a long meeting with him and Aunt Margaret to explain the details. It took some convincing, but they finally believed me. Mom could not remember individual names at gatherings, and she mostly smiled and sat with people.

Every year Mom took an airplane ride to see my sister June in Vancouver Washington. June noticed things about her on visits as well. Mom even thought that the people who stole things from her followed her to Washington to continue harrassing her.

Things took a bad turn after one visit to Washington that resulted in an ulcer on her ankle. Things turned badly for myself also, as my husband Wern Kliewer suddenly died. I will continue with those stories in the next blog.

The drawing shown is one page of a Salvation Army year end newsletter, where I used my Mom's image for the artwork.