Shells
PHYLLIS S YINGLING
One day while walking on the beach
I found a fragment of what must have been a
magnificent conch shell, . . . a remnant of a
masterpiece,
an exquisite shard. I tried to imagine the part
as the
whole when it was at its best, before it was
broken by
the churning sea . . . . and TIME. now all that
remained
was a chunk of pink and white shell - its
scalloped
edge chipped and scratched.
I thought of my mother, a victim of
Alzheimer's disease for the past five years.
At 78, wheelchair bound, and unable to walk or
speak coherently, she resides in a nursing wing
in a
retirement home. In recent years she has become
an
exquisite shard of a magnificent person she once
was, before she was broken by degenerative
disease . . . and TIME
Those of us who knew and loved her in her prime
love her all the more for the change in herself
that she
has had to endure.
Those of you who know her now only see the shell
of a once vital person, a lovely fragment of a
magnificent individual. As caregivers of the
elderly,
as you feed them, walk with them, change their
clothes, and tuck them in at night, please know
that
families and friends . . . and the individuals
themselves . . . are grateful when you show
respect and
kindness, and handle then as gently as a once-
exquisite shell.
