Should You Tell Mom with Alzheimer's You Are Gay?

My mom lives in the Alzheimer's unit of a nursing home in Indiana.
She and I have always been very close, we told each other almost everything. Even though I asked her when I was about 9 years old if it would be okay if I married a girl, "As long as she is nice to me," I didn't have the courage to actually come out to her until I was 16.

Even though I had tried many times before, and was sure she already knew, SAYING the words was so terrifying...I am not sure why. She was perfectly fine about it. Today, at age 55, telling my mom with Alzheimer's that I am gay was just so strange, so tinged with that moment of terror---what would her reaction be?

Now you might say, Diane, WHY tell her? Well, because I am planning to get married and I want to share my happiness with my mother, my mother who may not live until the wedding, or until another year goes by. My mother who in her right mind would want to be happy for me. I know she would. For me, for her, we hoped for this day...never believing it might even come, but hoping.

Mom: "Hello?"
Diane: "Hi, Mom, it's Diane from Seattle, your daughter."
M: (She chuckles, good sign. I must remember to send a note to that place. The people there always talk so nice to her, and to me. It makes a huge difference. I can tell she is treated well. All who visit her agree, unlike the place my great aunt was living in at the end. Big difference.) "Hello. Is something wrong?" (HUH?! She has NEVER and I mean NEVER, not during any of our many phone calls over decades, started with THAT! Gulp. Was she hearing terror in some secret motherly way?)
D: "No. Nothing is wrong. Are YOU okay?" (Maybe she is projecting?)
M: "Yes, I am fine. I was just...um...I was..." (I heard the staff say something about a shower, maybe they stopped to bring her to the phone and that is what made her think it was some emergency call.)
D: " Were you getting ready for a shower?"
M: "No..."
D: "Mom, I want to tell you something."
M: "Okay."
D: " I'm gay."
M: "You're what?"
D: (This is Indiana, Gay is not a word you shout.) "Gay, Mom. I am GAY. I live with woman, ya know?" (The one you met 33 some years ago.)
M: "Oooh."
D: "And I'm getting MARRIED."
M: "You're getting married?!" (She comes alive! She sounds joyous! Happy!) "That's wonderful! Where do you live?"
D: "In Seattle, Washington. President Obama passed a law and now gay people can marry." (I'm nut-shelling it. She won't remember a word I said in an hour.)
M: "Oh, write it down for me so I can think about it."
D: "Sure, I'll send you a letter." (Nope, and let some conservative Indiana nursing home staff member read THAT to her? No way.)
M: "Okay, thanks for calling," she says in the most pleasant voice.
D: "I'll write. Bye." (It's done. Whew. I want to hang up and think about it.)
M: "Bye."   CLICK

How do I feel? Fantastic. In that moment I heard the exact joy I would have heard 33 years ago, had such a conversation  been possible. I will hold onto the thought that in that moment she felt the joy too.