Marianne Talbot with her mother I have discovered a new way to make mum smile. It's not completely new. It made her smile before. What's new is how often I do it.
It is giving mum a series of ENORMOUS bear hugs. These are real arms-totally-round-her, our faces nestling in each others' necks so we can kiss each other, bear hugs.
This is something we have always done. But not ALL the time. But now there is so little I can do with or for mum it's lovely to find something that works.
The first time I hug her she smiles. The second time (ten seconds later) she smiles again and her face starts to relax. The third time (another ten seconds) she starts to look like herself, and she says 'Thank you, thank you, that's lovely!'
I find this humbling. Why should mum thank me for hugging her?
But I understand. Mum is lonely. Terribly lonely. Having advanced Alzheimer's is one of the most isolating conditions possible. It doesn’t matter how much you want to communicate, the words just won’t come. If, like mum, being sociable has been so important, this must be incredibly distressing.
I discovered the efficacy of hugging when, because I'd been on my annual Lake District jaunt, I hadn’t seen her for a week. When I walked in she was in the corner, thinner than ever, radiating gloom. She perked up a bit when she saw me, but she didn’t really recognise me, even emotionally.
So I hugged her, long and hard. The effect was magic. So I did it again, and then again. Since then I have spent all my time with her giving her hugs. I swear it is doing her good.
It reminds me of something she said just after dad died. I had said something about loathing the 'peace' bit in church where everyone hugs everyone else. 'Being hugged by strangers makes me shudder' I told her.
'Well', she said 'what you don’t understand is how important it is to elderly people who don’t get ever get hugged. It’s the part of the service I like best. It’s the only time I ever get hugged these days'.
That shut me up. It also completely changed my view of 'the peace'. Now I go out of my way to make myself available to hug and be hugged. I try to be sensitive to any person who obviously feels as I used to (of whom there are definitely a few). But I positively seek out those who, like mum, are starved of hugs.
If a simple hug can make someone feel so much better (and we all know it can), then I’m all for it.