A Pictorial Representation of Dementia…

After my session at my MIL’s yesterday, I spent a lot of time sorting today. When you have little context for another person’s belongings, even when you’ve known them for 55-years, one tends to take a quick look at things, that haven’t been viewed by their owner in decades (this much is clear), and make fast decisions. The rotting cotton curtains? Easy. Throw them away. A bin of leather than smells so chemically that your eyes water? Out it goes. A wooden box of ink, paint brushes and nibs? Interesting. Let’s take a closer look at home. Beaded purses? Same thing. A tackle box of beads and belt buckles? Sure, let’s check it out.

As I was sorting the tackle box of beads, I paused to really look into the main compartment, after picking out the 87th loose round wooden bead, and saw dementia in the random collected bits that I was attempting to sort. It was impossible to reconcile why these items where were there, together, or coated in clods of dust in a sealed box. I didn’t have context for the contents, and it was abundantly clear that my MIL doesn’t either, and that’s why the box was in the condition it was in. And even if she hasn’t looked at it for years, the very fact that she spent years telling us that she was going through ‘all the things,’ so we wouldn’t have to, is clearly what she wanted to do, not what she did. She never did. If this box of beads and dust has been this way for 40-years, it’s still a representation of her dementia.

I saw:

• Seed beads,
• Wooden beads of various colors,
• Pieces of sea shells,
• A fountain pen nib,
• A twig,
• Pieces of twist-ties sans the wire that makes them useful.
• Nails & screws of different sizes and finishes,
• Short dowels,
• A piece of toothpick, and
• The aforementioned dust.