This is the story of how I met one of the ladies who is the inspiration behind my Facebook page. I don't have a picture of her, but this quote sums up this story. It has been on my mind the last few days. I share it here with you today.
Way back in the 6th grade, the early 1970s or so, we had an exchange teacher as opposed to an exchange student. Christopher Bodenham was his name. He w...as supposed to teach us for a year. It took some getting used to, at the time, but I think we were making progress. Sadly, about a month into his teaching us here in the States he had a tragic and fatal accident. I don’t know who contacted his family back in England, but I do remember waiting out in the hallway that day wondering where he was. All of a sudden Mr. Anthony, our principal, showed up to let us in the classroom. We were all wondering what happened. I believe after we all settled in the classroom, he told us that we would be getting a substitute teacher. I don’t think he told us why that morning. Ms. Simmons just suddenly appeared somehow later that day. I believe it was at the end of that day that we were told Mr. Bodenham had passed on. I don’t think we were told the hows or the whys, just that it was. I remember we all had to sit down and write condolence letters to his family. I remember going to his memorial service and my mom telling me not to cry ... why I remember that is beyond me! I remember thinking his father’s name was David. He finally corrected us and told us his name was Denis. Yes, he was a doctor, a surgeon no less, and he became my mentor in life.
It all started with that condolence letter to him when I was in the 6th grade. He wrote back to our entire class thanking us for writing to him. I wrote back to him saying you’re welcome ... and on it went. For years we wrote to each other. I believe it lasted for a good 15 years!
Denis and his wife, Anne, came to the United States way back in 1980 or 1981. Boy, talk about one excited kid - me! I was finally going to meet the man I’d been writing to. I remember my mom set up an open house. I vaguely remember being sort of embarrassed for my classmates to be in our house, you know how kids are. I don’t think they picked on me though for my mom having an open house. I remember promising Denis and Anne that I would visit them after I graduated from high school in 1985. So, instead of a college education I went to England in 1985. I stayed there for 6 weeks. I was 17. I was sort of lost in this vast land of England, not knowing anyone except my host and hostess. I made a lousy house guest for sure. Looking back, I cherish the moments I was able to spend with Denis. He passed away in the early 1990s. I miss him to this very day. My most cherished item is a water color he painted of the church in his neighborhood. I have that and his picture hanging in my home office.
Anne, bless her ... I was never really connected to her in any way. It was Denis I was connected to. I can’t even explain that really. When I would write to them, I would say Denis and Anne, but really ... there just was no connection with her, I didn’t think. I don’t know ... maybe it was because Denis was the one who did the writing? Anyway, Anne was the one who wrote me a letter way back in the early 1990s telling me of Denis’ passing. That was a hard day.
Bless Anne, though ... after Denis’ passing we tried to remain in contact. It just was not the same. I had no clue what to write. I would tell myself to write to her like I would write to Denis, it just was not the same. Anyway, it got down to a Christmas card kind of relationship. Oh sure, we’d send an occasional note, with the promise of doing better. I was so excited to hear from her that she had email - we thought maybe that would be easier. Then, she was set up on Instant Messenger. None of it helped. I would look forward every year to her sending me my annual calendar. Yes, I knew it would be a cat calendar, but all the same it would arrive every year. It became our unspoken tradition ... and I, in turn, would send a box of ornaments for her to distribute every year ... every year without fail.
I guess it was about 4 years or so ago when no calendar arrived. I was like, hmmmm, maybe she simply forgot or maybe it would be late. No calendar. Another year went by, no calendar. It was not until just this past year I found out the reason.
Anne has Alzheimer’s. Anne has Alzheimer’s so badly that she had to be put in a home as she is a danger to herself and others. As of the time of this writing, March 10, 2015, I do not know if Anne is still here. I am making the presumption that she is as I have not been told otherwise and I do not find anything on Google, not that that means anything. I asked the person I am in contact with in England if she happened to have Anne’s address where she is at. I was informed that “she will not remember you. I’m sorry, but she won’t.” This hurts me to the very core of my being. Why? Because how does anybody really know this? How does anybody really know what an Alzheimer’s patient will remember and what he/she won’t remember? I just simply wanted to send her a card.
This is my story of Anne. I cherish these two people, Denis and Anne, deeply and I will never forget them. I cherish Anne for trying to continue to maintain a relationship that lasted for many, many years and one that I will forever miss.
Anne is one of the ladies who inspire my Facebook page. I honor her in my efforts to raise awareness, to hopefully help make the “stigma” of being a person with dementia diminish. There is no shame in having Alzheimer’s or dementia of any form, no shame.
It all started with that condolence letter to him when I was in the 6th grade. He wrote back to our entire class thanking us for writing to him. I wrote back to him saying you’re welcome ... and on it went. For years we wrote to each other. I believe it lasted for a good 15 years!
Denis and his wife, Anne, came to the United States way back in 1980 or 1981. Boy, talk about one excited kid - me! I was finally going to meet the man I’d been writing to. I remember my mom set up an open house. I vaguely remember being sort of embarrassed for my classmates to be in our house, you know how kids are. I don’t think they picked on me though for my mom having an open house. I remember promising Denis and Anne that I would visit them after I graduated from high school in 1985. So, instead of a college education I went to England in 1985. I stayed there for 6 weeks. I was 17. I was sort of lost in this vast land of England, not knowing anyone except my host and hostess. I made a lousy house guest for sure. Looking back, I cherish the moments I was able to spend with Denis. He passed away in the early 1990s. I miss him to this very day. My most cherished item is a water color he painted of the church in his neighborhood. I have that and his picture hanging in my home office.
Anne, bless her ... I was never really connected to her in any way. It was Denis I was connected to. I can’t even explain that really. When I would write to them, I would say Denis and Anne, but really ... there just was no connection with her, I didn’t think. I don’t know ... maybe it was because Denis was the one who did the writing? Anyway, Anne was the one who wrote me a letter way back in the early 1990s telling me of Denis’ passing. That was a hard day.
Bless Anne, though ... after Denis’ passing we tried to remain in contact. It just was not the same. I had no clue what to write. I would tell myself to write to her like I would write to Denis, it just was not the same. Anyway, it got down to a Christmas card kind of relationship. Oh sure, we’d send an occasional note, with the promise of doing better. I was so excited to hear from her that she had email - we thought maybe that would be easier. Then, she was set up on Instant Messenger. None of it helped. I would look forward every year to her sending me my annual calendar. Yes, I knew it would be a cat calendar, but all the same it would arrive every year. It became our unspoken tradition ... and I, in turn, would send a box of ornaments for her to distribute every year ... every year without fail.
I guess it was about 4 years or so ago when no calendar arrived. I was like, hmmmm, maybe she simply forgot or maybe it would be late. No calendar. Another year went by, no calendar. It was not until just this past year I found out the reason.
Anne has Alzheimer’s. Anne has Alzheimer’s so badly that she had to be put in a home as she is a danger to herself and others. As of the time of this writing, March 10, 2015, I do not know if Anne is still here. I am making the presumption that she is as I have not been told otherwise and I do not find anything on Google, not that that means anything. I asked the person I am in contact with in England if she happened to have Anne’s address where she is at. I was informed that “she will not remember you. I’m sorry, but she won’t.” This hurts me to the very core of my being. Why? Because how does anybody really know this? How does anybody really know what an Alzheimer’s patient will remember and what he/she won’t remember? I just simply wanted to send her a card.
This is my story of Anne. I cherish these two people, Denis and Anne, deeply and I will never forget them. I cherish Anne for trying to continue to maintain a relationship that lasted for many, many years and one that I will forever miss.
Anne is one of the ladies who inspire my Facebook page. I honor her in my efforts to raise awareness, to hopefully help make the “stigma” of being a person with dementia diminish. There is no shame in having Alzheimer’s or dementia of any form, no shame.
You can follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/melissaacraftingforacause
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