The use of language is a brand for being human and for building civilizations.  We are amazed when someone includes in his resume a reference to “fluency in three languages.” Even two is impressive enough.  But our propensity is gargantuan for taking the gift of language for granted.  Language connects, includes, interprets, and defines us. It is the stuff of all social structures. We speak it, hear it, read it, symbolize it, and sign it; but it is made up of word symbols we’ve learned over a lifetime. Therefore, when the use of language is lacking, flawed, failing or misused by a person, his/her life becomes distorted. At best, it is frustrated and limited.  At worst, a personality is diminished, even when nonverbal and action “language” continues with some degree of effectiveness.

Our mother had taken great pride in remembering the names of her flowers. I would ask her their names. As her health declined, we stopped asking their names, but she would spontaneously offer a defense in case we did. She would say, “I don’t know what this one is; I’ve never seen it before.” It would usually be a common perennial she had grown in her garden for many years. We helped her by infusing the moment with an exclamation about the flower’s beauty, “But isn’t it beautiful?” Her simple “yes” and saddened expression belied her painful forgetting.*

This way of responding by us was slow coming. At first when Mother couldn’t remember or used the wrong words, I anxiously tried to help her. I would correct her, gently of course. But I soon learned I was engaging in a hurtful and unsuccessful task. Correcting was only hurting her. It did nothing to reinvest the words in her memory bank.

As a family, we realized in this, and other experiences, the value of the moment was to connect with her and to share the beauty we saw in her garden. After all, a flower by any other name, or with no name, is just as beautiful!

The Alzheimer’s patient does not suddenly lose the ability to define experience in words. It happens gradually, and may even improve, then regress.  Over time the loss can be mapped:
   - Forgetting names of persons, places, or objects;
   - Assigning the wrong word to an experience or object, such as calling a glass a 
     fork;
   - Saying words but not assimilating them into any functional or social situation;
   - Using sounds that do not formulate words as we know them, just gibberish; and
   - Using nonverbal means or acting out to communicate.

How does the caregiver deal with the onset and progressive loss of such an essential part of a loved one? I will share some thoughts about communication in succeeding entries. For now, I note only a few from the Alzheimer’s Association‘s many excellent tips:

   - Avoid criticizing, correcting, and arguing.

   - Use nonverbal communication such as pointing or touching.

   - Show that you are listening and trying to understand what is being said.

   - Encourage the person to continue to express thoughts even if he or she is having
     difficulty.

   - Use positive, friendly facial expressions.

Our family made a commitment to our mother, though it may not have been expressed at the time:

When you no longer understand our language,

    we will try to grasp yours.

We will cherish the fleeting signs of 

    knowing in your eyes.

Your soft smile tells us

    you have not yet gone.

When you try to tell us something

    and you sense your words are wrong,

we will listen with our hearts

    and try to help you reach your thoughts.*

*From Please Take Me Home Before Dark by Billie Pate with Mary Pate Yarnell, pages 20-21 and 37.