There is an emotional dissonance on this dementia journey. The ups and downs of the path itself, but also all the things outside of it. Mom is fading. Last week, she had numerous bad days. This week, she has had numerous better ones. A small plateau of sorts? Maybe. Maybe not. There are no sure answers at this stage, only that the fade is continuing. She sleeps most of the time. She usually eats one meal a day when she is fed and drinks the small amounts offered most of the time. Despite the weakness which comes at this stage, on her better days, if she is awake, she is still happy and smiling.

A resident, who used to be a kindergarten teacher, goes to the memory unit to read children’s books. After she read to Mom this week she called Dad to tell him what a delight it was. She said she got more out of Mom’s smile than her reading a book gave to Mom. Those who care for Mom love her because of her sweet countenance. We are aware of what a blessing that is, and we know many dementia patients do not smile and giggle at those who care for them.  

In our society, Mom’s condition is to be pitied. We live in a throw away culture who would say that non-producers don’t have much worth. Yet, here is my mom, unable to communicate with words, unable to move herself at all, unable to “contribute” in ways which are measurable to the outside world. And still…with her simple smile, she lifts others up. From her bed, which she cannot get out of on her own, she makes people feel happy. Even as her life is slipping away she is making people feel welcome. That is her gift. And she is using it even when she doesn’t know who anyone is, including herself. It is an exquisite anguish to be a witness to it.

Sadness is part of this journey for us, but doesn’t seem to be for her. We wait and watch. The bad days fill us with apprehension. Anxiety is close at hand most of the time. We take deep breaths to try to release the tightness; we cry tears to release the sadness. And still, we rejoice to see her smile. We open our hands to release our hold. To let go. And to wait for God’s timing.

In addition to walking with open hands, and a profound sadness in my days, I am also finding joy. It is the juxtaposition of these two states which I am finding difficult. It seems to me, I can handle only one deep emotion at time. Wouldn’t it be nice if life would allow for pacing? However, that is not the case. Time keeps on moving. There is life outside of Mom’s bedroom, and it is going forward with or without my permission…ready or not. I cannot hit the pause button and stop the world from spinning while I grieve. Instead I must learn to embrace the joy, even while I am grieving, to allow it to fill me despite my sadness. No guilt…knowing that Mom would be rejoicing, too and would want me to continue loving life.

I am planning a trip, which was a gift to me beyond my imagining. The timing could not have been known beforehand, but planning, booking, and anticipating Ireland has been a blessing. A welcome respite from the day to day unknown of Mom’s journey. It is my prayer that we will get to go and that there will be no need to cancel, delay, or cut the trip short. An item on my bucket list, hopefully to come true. How can I not be joyful about it? What a thrill my kids have given to me.  

At the same time, I am watching my grandson grow in the womb of my daughter-in-love. No stopping or pausing. It is a stunning thing of beauty to see. Watching my son get ready for his son brings me so much delight. Seeing the growing of hope and possibility brings back memories of preparing for my own children. I remember all the fun and fear of it. All the anticipation. I watch them getting ready and it makes me giddy for them. I have even started collecting baby items at my house for future visits. Being immersed in the world of babies again feels like life. My heart beats a bit faster when I think of this little tiny one and his arrival.

Because I am a crier, my joy tears and my sorrow tears are flowing together. Mixing as they roll down my cheeks. I cannot separate one from another. A waterfall of emotions evident on my face. Life in all its forms. All the deepest beautiful heartbreaking moments rolled into droplets that leak from my eyes. What an amazing God to create feelings inside that trickle out through the saltiness of tears. A way to release all the overwhelming parts of life. I am stumbling through. Trying to balance all the feelings and allow them to have the space they need. Not an easy task for one who likes to control things. Ha! I find that taking one day at a time is helping, if I can just remember not to borrow trouble. Another Ha!

Today, I am sitting on my porch being embraced by the breeze and sung to by the birds. Here, it feels possible to have peace amidst all the feelings dripping down my cheeks.