I don’t know if you’ve ever spent considerable time with an individual experiencing dementia. The process is truly heart-wrenching, akin to gradually losing a loved one, one fragment at a time. While some days may offer respite, the overall journey entails witnessing the gradual fading of the familiar persona, leaving behind scattered remnants that sometimes drift away, only to unexpectedly resurface.
Approximately five years ago, my mother Barbara came to reside with us unexpectedly. She had been in a relationship with Richard for several years, living in Weslaco to remain close to him. Although they didn’t cohabit, their profound love for each other was evident. Richard, who played a significant role in her care by checking on her almost daily, contacted me late in 2018 from the hospital. He informed me that due to his health, he could no longer look after her and urged me to bring her to live with us. Tragically, he passed away shortly thereafter.
Given the seven-hour distance between us, I hadn’t fully grasped the extent of my mother’s deteriorating condition until I brought her home. Soon after, she expressed her worry to me, believing that Richard had ended their relationship since he had stopped contacting her. To help her comprehend the situation better, I made sure to take her to Richard’s memorial service, which seemed to bring her some solace.
A sports enthusiast, my mom relished watching the Cowboys and various forms of football, except for soccer. Basketball didn’t captivate her much; she found the fast-paced action challenging to follow and would quickly lose interest when a basketball game aired. Conversely, I am a devoted Spurs fan, and my wife and I often sport San Antonio gear at home as a fun display of team loyalty.
In her final year, she encountered difficulties operating the TV remote, so we scheduled her favorite shows for her. “Wheel of Fortune” topped her list, and despite her declining conversational abilities, she could adeptly solve many puzzles, occasionally outshining the contestants on screen. Watching the letters reveal answers became the highlight of her day, showcasing how simple pleasures can bring immense joy.
By late 2023, her condition deteriorated significantly, leading to her admission to home hospice care the day after Christmas. Although we anticipated several more months with her, she passed away less than a month later. The hospice provided a hospital bed, where she spent most of her final weeks. Gradually losing her mobility, she eventually relied on us for assistance, offering a sense of relief as we ensured her safety and comfort, managing her medications and supplies diligently to alleviate any avoidable discomfort.
During one poignant moment, I approached her as she appeared contemplative. Despite her struggle to articulate words, she made a concerted effort…
“Ssssss ….”
“Spuuuu…..”
“Spuuuursssss!”
“Spurs!”
With a smile, she pointed at my shirt, which indeed bore the word SPURS. It was a simple yet profound moment as she read it aloud to me, exuding a sense of accomplishment akin to solving a puzzle. In that instant, she radiated joy, a moment that would have made Pat Sajak proud.
A few days later, surrounded by loved ones and caregivers, my mother peacefully passed away. Following that moment, she uttered no more words.
Life is both lengthy and fleeting. While she may not have shared my love for the Spurs, she was cherished by a Spurs enthusiast. It underscores the importance of cherishing and embracing the people and things we hold dear, for they are not eternal. Love passionately and wholeheartedly. Spare no time for anything less.
Barbara Ann Jordan bid farewell on January 23, 2024. A memorial service will be held on March 30, 2024, at 10:00 am at Wildflower Church in Austin, TX.