The Old Lady in the Window

Most of my childhood was spent in West Philadelphia on Cambridge Street.  We were a city block of neat row houses all painted and bricked in a similar manner.  Back in the mid 1950′s and early 1960′s there were lots of children on Cambridge Street.  All the families knew each other and adults disciplined any child on the block.  For the most part, the kids were well behaved with a notable exception.  We all teased the old lady in the window.

Kids Can Be Mean

The houses at the end of the street faced a different direction and had a side window that was probably a kitchen window.  In one of those houses there was on old lady who would sit in the window.  I don’t know how old she was, but when you’re 7 or 8 years old everyone one over 20 is old.  I remember this woman was very thin and looked frail.  Her hair was wiry, wild and white and she had these piercing black eyes that looked mean.  She sat in that window day after day, watching the kids play.  She never spoke, but sometimes reached toward us like she wanted a touch.  When she would reach toward us we would take off running and yell “The witch is gonna get you.”

When I look back and remember this woman, I realize that she was just a lonely old lady who probably had some form of dementia.  That window was her only contact with the outside world and we were a source of remote companionship for her.  When she reached out, it was for a little human contact.  I know that kids can be cruel but I wonder why the adults on the street never chastised us for teasing the old lady and calling her a witch.

Back then I hadn’t heard the terms dementia and Alzheimer’s.  Some people called her the crazy old lady on the corner and some said she’s just old and doty.  At this point in my life, I’m pretty sure she had some type of dementia.  I don’t know if anyone was home with her during the day or if she was there alone.  She just seemed to sit in that window for hours.

We’ve Come A Long Way

This morning I let Gladys sleep late.  We’ve had bad storms and flooding in the Atlanta area and a lot of roads, schools and businesses are closed, including Gladys day care; so I didn’t have to get her ready to go anywhere.  Anyway, when I got her up, her hair was wild and disheveled.  She reminded me of the old lady in the window and I remembered how the kids on Cambridge Street used to treat that lady.

We’ve come a long way in understanding dementia and how it affects people.  We understand the need to keep them socialized as long as possible.  We know there are medications that can slow the progression of dementia.  We know the importance of music and familiar things.  There has been so much progress in treatment and care.  Still, I wonder how much progress has been made in helping family members understand the disease.

How many old ladies are sitting in the window because their families aren’t aware of options?  Here’s the saddest part of dementia.  Most of us, including me, don’t learn anything about dementia until we are faced with caring for someone with dementia.

The Need To Prepare

When we were young and having babies, we took classes to help prepare us for childbirth.  Some of us took parenting classes.  All of us asked family and friends lots of questions about what to expect once we got our little babies home.  Just like we prepared ourselves to take care of our children, we need to prepare ourselves to take care of our parents.

How do we help others understand the need for this type of preparation?  Comments?  Suggestions?

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