Alzheimer's on my Mind

My sister, Cheryl lent me a book - The Last Childhood: A Family Story of Alzheimer's which is one woman's story of her mother's Alzheimer's. It was sweet and sad. It read somewhat like my own life with my mother though Mom is not as advanced as I suppose she someday will be. I think of this blog and what I write of my mother and want to clarify that I do share the funny things that Mom says and does but please be assured she has always said quirky things and had funny stories. When I tell of her it is to honor who she has always been and who she remains to be for us. Do not think there are also not times of despair, heartbreak and the most awful fear.
Now when I drive to her house I feel myself shifting to another gear in my mind- a gear that is very gentle with no expectations. I carefullu brace myself when I go in her front door as she greets me with surprise that I have come- though I have been going there every Friday for about a year (every other Friday before that). Of course, she has no idea what day it is. She asks if Fall is near though her garden has just bloomed with the first flowers of Spring. She mentions she has not seen my brother Doug, who lived with her until March, and do I think he might still be at work. I remind her again, again, all eveving that he has moved to St. Loius, that Cheryl will be moving in, that yes, she wants to. We never run out of things to say because we repeat everything we say a dozens of times. It is not frusrating as I know this is her new reality, in the moment entirley. I am gentle and loving with her as I know she was with me when I couldn't yet figure out the world. The thing is, I was learning how to figure it out- she is going backwards and forgetting how. I got better, she gets worse.
When I leave her house I worry if she will be okay as night falls, the night upsets her but she goes to bed early. As I drive home I slowly reenter my own world.
My own world has its own curvy paths, hills and valleys. Last night I cheered myself thinking that I am only 51 and there is plenty of time to reinvent the future. I could imagine success with my crafts and writing, it is never too late. Then a dull bell clanged less deep in my mind then I would have preferred warning me that I might go the same path as my mother. The future might turn on me and start slipping away, every step I take swept away so that , like her I can only be in the eternal now with no future to build or past to rest upon. It is a scarey thought. But then life has always been like that- you can practice all the intentional thinking you like, you can know The Secret and still life unfolds as a constant surprise.
I enjoy my mother in a different way now. Holding her hand as she is surprised that it is Friday, that it is Spring, that Doug moved away and that Cheryl is moving in. Again and again and again.