We sit at the table with glasses raised in a toast. Who will begin? How will we express the things we are
thinking?
"Here's to our health and happiness," we say.
No. This is wrong. I
look at Mom. She has begun to eat, paying
no attention to the toast or to the fact that we are not eating yet. She is oblivious to the purpose of the
gathering of family.
"Mom," we remind her. "It's Thanksgiving. Lift your glass."
She smiles and obliges us with the lifting of the glass as
she joins in. Then we go around the
table and tell what we are thankful for.
When it is Mom's turn she announces that she is thankful for being here
with all of us -- a wonderful moment of cognitive thought and awareness!
Skip sits next to my mother and helps her cut up her food. I look over and give a silent thanks for him
and his help, his patience, his willingness to assist. Lately there is so much more work, more
angst, more frustration, impatience, and disappointment. We are both tired and stressed. So, here we sit on Thanksgiving looking for
reasons to be thankful. Are we happy
and thankful that Mom has Alzheimer's? Of
course not! Are we thankful that our lives are topsy turvy and that our
personal freedoms are sacrificed: to come
and go, to spend time with others on a whim and at a moment's notice, to go out
to a movie as we please? Are we appreciative
that our home has become littered with dropped tissues, with safety assists,
with reminder notes, signs on doors, locked doors, removed hazards that might
cause unsafe conditions for Mom, with locks removed from bathroom doors, with
chips and dings in paint and wood due to Mom's walker banging around the house?
Are we thrilled with the extra work, laundry, dishes, and errands for those
things that Mom needs? Do we like watching non-stop TV to entertain Mom...TV
shows that cater to her taste? Is it
enjoyable being on constant alert to Mom's needs, to any dangers, to potential
falls, choking, wanderings? My answer is
not immediately apparent.
I question our decision, our purpose. I consider the changes and the
'inconvenience.' There are others who
make the choice to NOT be inconvenienced.
Yes. It is tempting. But then I think about the value of having
Mom with us. She is a part of our
lives. Regardless of the things that are
unpleasant, there is so much value to having her with us. She is a connection to our past. She is yesterday's memories. She is a
reminder of our origins, the reason I am alive.
She...MY MOTHER...is why I am thankful.
Yes! In spite of the myriad
alterations we have made, I AM thankful...truly,
truly thankful.
As I put Mom to bed after cleaning up the dishes and taking
a little break, thinking of the meaning of the day; I wish Mom a Happy
Thanksgiving. It has been a long chaotic
day. I know that she is tired and
grumpy. I am tempted to hurry off as
soon as I help her get into her nightgown.
Instead I stroke her hair and rub her shoulders. I tuck her under her covers and pull the
blanket up beneath her chin. I give her
a tired smile but a sincere one. She
looks up at me and smiles back.
"Thank
you," she says sweetly. I know that she appreciates the care she receives
even when she cannot or does not express it.
"You're welcome."
Again I wish her a Happy Thanksgiving.
She laughs that laugh that tells me she has no idea what I am
saying. She has forgotten the day. She has forgotten the dinner, the toasts, the
company at the table. But deep down inside
I think that she knows. Rather than a conscious
knowledge, she has a 'feeling' of being here, of being loved, of being cared
for, of being safe. This is my Thanksgiving. She has someone to care for her. Dear God, I am thankful for this day, this
food, this family, this life, this woman who means so much to me.
