Finding rose, p.1
Finding Rose, page 1
Praise for Finding Rose
“Angelia Brigance weaves a heart-warming story of Rose, an aging mother with dementia. Along with a relatable story, she offers some practical tips to help families negotiate the emotional and sometimes overwhelming task of care-giving for their loved one experiencing a cognitive decline.”
Naomi Bryant, ND
Chief Medical Officer
Naturo-Medica
“Angelia writes with simplicity and beauty. Her fictitious story is immediately relatable, especially for readers who have a loved one with dementia. Her practical, time-tested advice is woven into the story seamlessly, leaving the reader with love for the characters and tips for how to support someone suffering with dementia. A definite ‘must-read.’”
Di Beals
Pastor
Canyon Creek Church
“As enjoyable as any novel, this book goes beyond and is a must-read for anyone with aging parents, relatives, or friends. In this compelling story, author Angelia Brigance has masterfully captured the subtle life-changes of the elderly, while gently, clearly, and compassionately educating her reader on how to lovingly go through this stage of life with them.”
Dawn Jones
Best Selling Author
Top 7 Personality Challenges
Made For Success Publishing
P.O. Box 1775 Issaquah, WA 98027
www.MadeForSuccessPublishing.com
Copyright © 2019 Angelia Brigance
All rights reserved.
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.
If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at service@madeforsuccess.net.
Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Distributed by Made For Success Publishing
Editor: Katie Rios
Book Design: DeeDee Heathman
Executive Editor: Valerie Heathman
_________________________________________________________________________
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data
Brigance, Angelia
Finding Rose: A Novel
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-64146-369-0 (PBK)
ISBN: 978-1-64146-370-6 (eBOOK)
LCCN: 2018961946
Dedicated to my husband who loves me and believes in me. Who encourages me to share my passion, stands by my side, and holds my hand throughout life. I am blessed and still, “can’t live without you.”
To my children, Gabrielle and Joshua, dreams do come true. My first dream was you. Your excitement and love through this book made my next dream a joy.
To my mom, the original Rose. Your impact on my life, your strength and love through life’s challenges, gave me the vision to face whatever life brings.
Lastly, to the bouquet of Roses who have come and gone from my life, leaving a passion to walk through your memories and embrace them with you.
Contents
Praise for Finding Rose
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Definitions, Techniques, and Styles Used Throughout the Story
Signs of Dementia
About the Author
Chapter One
Maureen found herself alone in a room that had oversized mahogany doors polished to a high sheen. She imagined that this room was where the elite came to have cocktail parties in the evening light, complete with big band music and dancing. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She felt the sun on her face and slowly opened her eyes.
The sun was shining brightly through a majestic window that filled one side of the room. The walls seemed to glimmer like gold as the afternoon sun bounced off them, filling the room with warmth. Down the halls, ornate furniture with lush gold fabric lined the walls with deep red drapes and pillows. Large vases bursting with fresh flowers filled the rooms with the smell of spring.
The room had held many parties and joyous celebrations, but not today. No, today the room had a somber effect with chairs lined up in rows to hold the many guests coming to pay their respects.
Dad had died suddenly just over two weeks ago. Maureen stood in the room alone to catch her breath, attempting to pull herself together before the guests arrived. At 5’5”, Maureen was neither short nor tall. She was slender yet curvaceous, which she wasn’t comfortable with. Maureen loved to hike in the mountains, and as a nurse, she got her steps in around the hospital, making it easy to keep her weight down. She wore her straight brown hair at shoulder length, and the cut followed the line of her jaw. Her deep-set eyes were brown with flecks of gold in them. Today she wore only light makeup, knowing it would probably be gone before the day was over. Mom had insisted. She looked out the window at the rolling green hills, taking advantage of fleeting moments of calm.
Maureen knew her dad would have loved knowing his memorial would be held here at the exclusive Los Angeles Country Club. Her brother Grant was a member. He and Dad were a lot alike. Grant Sr. was a doctor in private practice. He was only 5’ 10”, but he stood as if he were at least 6 feet tall. He always held himself with pride, and he had a laugh that could light up an entire room. Mom often said it was Dad’s laughter she fell in love with. He did well enough for himself and his family. Mom never had to work, which allowed her to be the social butterfly. Where Dad had a warm intellect, Mom had a gregarious flare. They were the perfect balance.
At 6’1’, Grant did stand tall. He looked up to Dad and inherited his drive for success, except his ambition was on steroids. He excelled in everything he did—from sports to academics, there seemed to be nothing he couldn’t do. Dad would beam every time a new accolade was bestowed on him. He, of course, married the perfect model, Tiffany, and had a fairytale wedding.
Though Grant had a surfer look with sun-bleached hair and brown eyes, he had an impeccably shrewd mind. It made sense that he went into law; he could charm anyone. Dad was over the moon when Grant Jr. made partner in the firm. He was laser-focused, and he kept his sights on success.
Maureen sighed heavily thinking of her dad. Dad had played golf with Grant here just last month on his 80th birthday. She missed him and wondered if he had been as proud of her as he was of Grant.
As a child, Maureen loved to sit with her dad and read stories. They read adventures and mystery novels and went on walks hand in hand. Grant had come along when she was six years old (a surprise addition), and he changed everything. Dad was so excited to have a son. Maureen knew her dad loved her, but his face never shone as bright as when he looked at Grant. Maureen and her dad still shared secret looks and stories that Grant wasn’t part of, but, over time, they had drifted apart.
When Maureen announced she was going to be a nurse, Dad was over the moon to have someone in the family following his footsteps in the medical field. The day she graduated, he brought her a bouquet of wildflowers and a stethoscope. Maureen reached up as if to touch the piece around her neck, remembering the joy she felt as if it was just yesterday. She wore it every day at work with pride. Graduation was their moment. Grant didn’t like “medical talk”—blood and surgery details would send him flying out the door. Maureen had used this on more than one occasion to have time alone with her dad. She smiled remembering the time she and her dad were enthralled in a controversy about a new surgery technique at dinner and Grant ran out of the room just in time to throw up in the guest bathroom. After that, Mom declared no more shop talk at the table.
A year later, Maureen was gone. She had met and married her now husband of over 30 years, Steve, who had an opportunity to start a small construction company in the foothills outside of Seattle, Washington with a friend.
f
After what only felt like a few minutes, Maureen’s quiet time was interrupted as family and friends began to fill the room. Her husband, Steve, walked in with their children and families following closely behind. Steve stood 5’10” with a strong build and gray-hazel eyes. He looked handsome with his salt and pepper hair cut short and neat. He was noticeably uncomfortable in the black suit and tie they had bought for the service, but he pulled it off nicely. Seattle was a more casual atmosphere than here in Beverly Hills, and they both preferred it.
Maureen’s grandson, Nash, who had just turned one, ran down the aisle. To him, this was simply a new playground with lots of places to climb. His exuberance was a blessing. He had bright blue eyes that looked just like his great grandfather’s. Dad will live on through those eyes, Maureen thought. Gabby, the eldest, ran after him. She had flown in for the service from Alaska, where her husband, Matt, was stationed in the Army. While Nash brought excitement, her arrival was always calming for Maureen. Motherhood agreed with her. She looked slim in her fitted black dress and heels. Her long brown hair was curled around her face, and she wore the diamond necklace her father had given her on her wedding day. Matt was helping her corral Nash. He threw Nash into the air and caught him, triggering a boisterous laugh.
Josh, the middle and only boy, was walking in with his younger sister, Grace. Josh was in college. Where Steve was uncomfortable in his suit, Josh filled it out and looked natural. He definitely knew clothes, having worked at Nordstrom for years to pay for school. He was studying personal training and nutrition and was an excellent ad for his future. Grace was a senior in high school. She was 5’ 4”, slim like her sister, with brown hair and green eyes the color of olives. Grace was a natural beauty. She was a social butterfly like her grandmother, Rose.
The whole clan sat down with Maureen, with Steve at her side and the children in the row behind them. Steve took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He was her strength.
Rose entered the room with the style and elegance of a classic movie star. She wore a black knee length dress with a single strand of pearls. Her short, light brown hair had a curl that framed her face under her hat—Mom’s signature accessory. The hat she chose today was black linen with a wide brim, worn low on one side. Black netting with small pearls accented the low slope of the hat. She stood at the door with her head down, slowly raising it until you could see her light green eyes. A small drop of the black netting from the hat almost met her eyes. She looked beautiful. She was quiet and reserved—at least for the moment—willing herself to be strong.
Grant walked up next to Mom in his custom back suit and took her arm to sit her down so the memorial could begin. Tiffany followed, looking as if she had walked straight out of a fashion show, strutting down the runway. Maureen silently groaned watching her. The rest of the guests were filtering in and taking seats. Maureen saw family, friends, patients, and colleagues from Dad’s former practice entering to honor him. She nodded to a few as they sat down around her. The burial had already taken place earlier that day with only family and close friends.
Grant had center stage for the service. He spoke eloquently about Dad, his practice, and his love of golf. The room was filled to the brim, and Grant was captivating. He even managed to weave in a few stories about Maureen and Mom into the mix. The mood was light with just enough somber undertones to be respectful. Maureen could picture Grant talking in front of a jury, taking them on a journey. He and Dad had that in common. Dad was a storyteller. He was always running behind at the office because he was busy sharing life with his patients. It was precisely why people were willing to wait to see him.
Grant finished, and their parents’ long-time pastor came up to the front to speak and share a bit more before it was over. Maureen loved hearing these stories about her dad. They involved the whole family and brought back great memories. The memorial concluded with both laughter and tears; a beautiful celebration of an amazing life.
Guests stopped by Rose, Maureen, and Grant to share their sympathy and quick memories before going out onto the patio for refreshments. Rose held Maureen’s hand and carried on a light conversation. Occasionally, Rose seemed overwhelmed and forgot the name of a longtime friend or got mixed up by the story they were telling. “She’s exhausted,” Maureen would explain. Maureen would often find Rose looking past the crowd at Dad’s portrait—which was on a gilded stand at the front of the room—as if to say, “Where are you? I need you.” Maureen’s heart broke a bit more. Soon, they were finally able to go outside and enjoy some of the warm afternoon air.
Nash was running through the crowd laughing, and Gabby was trying to keep him “proper” and safe in an outdoor patio where the golf course was a temptation. Matt, Josh, and Grace were teaming up to help, but Nash looked like he was winning. He ran up to Maureen and gave her his signal for “up.” Maureen picked him up and cuddled with him. It was a play to get to the grass, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t wait to hear him call her “GiGi”—the grandma name she had chosen when Gabby first announced she was expecting. Steve walked up, and Nash said “Papa,” leaving Maureen to try “up” with another. Maureen stood for a moment watching them, grateful to have them nearby. Gabby met her eyes, checking in. She knew how hard the day had been already. Maureen smiled at Gabby, letting her know she was fine.
The morning had been tough. Mom had been scattered, and they were all rushed. Rose couldn’t find her pearls, and she just had to have them. They were a gift from Dad for their 50th wedding anniversary. They had looked everywhere. Finally, Maureen found them in the silverware drawer. It was certainly odd, but Mom blamed it on the housekeeper, and there was no time to ponder. Mom had notes up all throughout the house so she wouldn’t forget anything. The stress from dad being gone left her feeling disorganized, to say the least. She seemed a little off to Maureen, but in the end, it made sense. She and Dad had been together for so long that standing on her own again would take some time. They were finally ready just as the limousine Grant had ordered showed up to take them to the cemetery.
Now, hours later, in the midst of the crowd, Rose seemed more at home. She loved to entertain guests, and this reception was her stage. She chatted and moved through the crowd. As the crowd thinned, Maureen saw her standing in front of the portrait of Grant, looking at it as if he were really there. A small group was nearby talking with Grant Jr. and Tiffany. Maureen’s family was seated at a nearby table, Nash having finally given up and fallen asleep in Matt’s arms.
Rose began to walk away from the portrait, then suddenly turned around. She looked over her shoulder, and in her best Ingrid Bergman voice, said, “Kiss me, kiss me as if it were the last time.” The guests around Grant let out a small gasp, while the family just rolled their eyes. It was from Casablanca, Mom and Dad’s favorite movie. They shared lines from that movie all through their marriage as if it were their own life. Grant explained his mom’s dramatic flair and the rest of the group chuckled. She could make a grand entrance—or exit—anywhere.
Chapter Two
The days Maureen had spent at Mom’s had been bittersweet. Old memories, old friends, and family had filled the few days they had spent together. They laughed and cried; sometimes at the same things. Memories had a funny way of doing that. Maureen felt melancholy as she packed her bag knowing Mom would be alone in a house full of memories. Saying goodbye to Mom gave Maureen a twinge of sadness and guilt.
The morning they left, Mom insisted on making breakfast for everyone. On the menu were pancakes, eggs, and crispy bacon. Everything was going smoothly until smoke began pouring out of the oven. In the excitement and hustle of the morning, Mom forgot that the bacon was in the oven and it was burning. It looked more like ashes when Maureen opened the oven.
Maureen took care of the mess, then spent time calming Mom down—who was deeply upset that she had ruined breakfast. Gabby and Josh fanned the smoke detectors to get them to stop whaling, while Steve and Matt opened the doors and windows. Nash sat in his high chair eating pancakes and syrup, watching the excitement with wide eyes. He waved his arms at everyone, but they weren’t quite sure if he was just enjoying himself or signaling for help. Grace was still getting ready upstairs and hadn’t even heard the alarm. The incident took the edge off of everyone. Later, as they ate their pancakes and eggs around the kitchen table, laughter and stories of past cooking disasters filled the air.
Grant stopped by before they left for the airport to go over the details of the plan. The “plan” was to move Mom up to Washington into her own place in several months, giving her time to sort through her things. Grant was busy putting the estate in order so he could sell the house, and after it sold, Mom would fly to Seattle to start her new adventure.
Change, even good change, is hard. However, Maureen knew that having her mom close to her was important. Grant and Tiffany were too busy with their own lives.
f
Maureen and Steve said goodbye to Gabby, Matt, and Nash after going through security to fly home. Their flight was on the other side of the airport, and they were running late. The rest of the family headed toward their gate. They stopped at Starbucks for drinks and snacks—a travel ritual. A skinny vanilla latte, Americano, and two Frappuccinos. It was easy to guess who drank what. Maureen was starting to relax, and Steve took her hand as they strolled along.
