That is the word that keeps coming to mind when I think about having my mom with me. It is as if there is a piece of the puzzle that has dropped into place that I didn't know was missing. This Christmas will be celebrated by three generations under my roof. I don't recall it in my life, certainly not three generations living with each other, that has not happened in the last century for our clan.
For what it's worth, I'm glad that my son can witness this kind of taking care of each other, family. I've hardly had time to check in with him on how he's doing with this change, I know that the two of them are mildly amused by each other.
And so here I am. Mom took herself to bed at 8:30 after arranging presents along the wall under the tree and then complimenting me on that arrangement. And asked me about six times whether the tree lights would be turned out tonight. Followed by four times asking me if would be turning the house lights out. Yes and yes, I back out of the room, taking everything that I could possibly need tonight so that I do not have to come downstairs again and accidentally wake her.
But that is life. She has a disease that is taking a predictable course marked by fear and anxiety, difficulty making the simplest decisions and abandonment of long held daily habits. What's good about today is that we have each other.
The Gift of Desperation...
2 hours ago