I have been wondering about the difference between the generations, wondering how we get to these new places of thinking and relating to one another. When and how do we form the expectations for behavior in our relationships? At what point did I come to believe that loving my husband did not mean letting him tell me what to do and think, how to wear my hair or what color clothing I should choose? Last week I found out that mom loves blue, not pink or lavender (those are the colors dad likes her to wear). A brief comment, a small moment, that has left me wondering for days.
If it were not for the sense of urgency I feel, there would be a sadness about this task. Helping my parents pack up after 21 years of wonderful living in a beautiful home. There are more than memories in this house. There is evidence of who they are, who mom was before the alzheimer’s began to take hold. But with less than 48 hours before the truck arrives, there isn’t time for any more trips down memory lane. There will be plenty of time for that when they unpack some of these boxes that hold paper and pictures that we couldn’t quite toss. I am trying to hold on to the idea that these memories are also in my head and my heart, places that don’t need to be packed – thank goodness.
I have had a number of people tell me how sorry they are that my mom has Alzheimer’s and at first I did feel very sorry for myself. When my mom stopping picking up the phone to call and chat, when our conversations felt forced and she couldn’t remember for even a few minutes the details of my life, I felt cheated. I wasn’t ready to lose her. But these last few weeks, sitting with her in the hospital, I have found that I am not losing her, we are just redefining our relationship. She reaches for my hand and cups my face as I kiss her goodbye in a way that she hasn’t done since I was a child. And she always asks about the wedding and the bride. How is she doing with all the plans? Is she getting nervous? Is everything ready? She talks more often of my own wedding which she pretty much planned on her own. It amazes me that she is holding on to this piece of our current reality. Just one week and our bride will be ready to walk down the aisle. And it looks like mom will be able to come home and be with us for that important day. So yes, there is loss and many changes that I would never have chosen, but there is also beauty on this new path that we are walking.
lining up my words 