Sometimes Life Gives You a Do-over

I was a teenager the first time I heard the word Alzheimer’s.  My maternal grandmother had been diagnosed and my reaction was to learn everything I could about the disease.  What I didn’t do was muster up enough courage to face it.

I remember driving with my parents to visit grandmama one Sunday afternoon.  When she saw me she asked, “Now which one are you?  I know you’re one of mine, but I don’t remember your name.”

All of my head knowledge hadn’t prepared me for that moment.  I understood the disease, but I hadn’t considered how it would feel to see it’s destruction up close and personal.  It was painful.  I was too chicken to face it, so I chose to let fear keep me away.

The years ticked by.  I got married.  I graduated from college.  We had a baby.

I am ashamed to say that I allowed the busyness of my life to be an excuse for my neglect of my grandmother.

I regret that I squandered precious time.

Fast forward twenty years and history repeated itself with my mother’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis.

It’s amazing the amount of information that is now available.  I have read books, attended seminars and workshops.  I have watched documentaries.  I have learned a great deal more this time around focusing less on how the disease progresses and more on how to care for my mother and ways to help her along the way.

If I allow myself, I can be swallowed by the grief of losing little pieces of Mom each day.  To avoid that, I focus on who Mom is in the moment.  I love her for who she is today.  I find something to be thankful for each day and if I’m lucky I will find something funny, too.

Some days Mom doesn’t remember my name, but that’s okay.  It’s obvious that she loves me and is so glad to see me.  That is enough.

Some days Mom doesn’t talk much and I’m good with that.  It’s nice to just sit on the sofa and hold her hand.  Peace and quiet at the end of a busy day is really quite nice.

Some days Mom isn’t in a very good mood.  I empathize with her frustration.  I’d be a little grumpy if I were in her shoes.

Some days Mom is funny. Those are my favorite times and I throw my head back and laugh with her because laughter is good.

A guest speaker at church yesterday said that if we spend our whole life running from conflict we end up with a life full of unfinished stories.

I ran from my grandmother and left her story unfinished in my life.  I have another chance to get it right.  This time I want to see the story through and look back and know that I did what I could, said all that needed to be said, that I never gave up, that I stayed to the end and that I honored Mom along the way.

Life has given me a do-over and I’m not going to waste it.