So many times in conversation, my mom would say, "Live each day." Often I found the phrase frustrating because I wanted to analyze a situation and see it from start to finish, but instead my mom was basically saying accept it for what it is and make the best of it. In many ways that's how Mom lives life. She approaches each day with zest, curiosity and a will to do what she can to live the day to its fullest.
For the past decade Mom has been progressively declining physically and cognitively. Dementia has taken hold, and exasperated by a recent stroke, her ability to talk, problem solve and take care of herself has become greatly compromised. Throughout this process, my siblings and I have been trying to do what we can to help Mom live fully.
Watching this decline has been heartbreaking, frustrating, worrisome and problematic in many, many ways. Yet, there have been so many incredible helpers lending expertise, support, comfort and good ideas all along the journey. Some strategies have worked beautifully and others have backfired significantly. Yesterday was one of those amazingly positive days--the kind of day that keeps your investment strong. For months, I've been wondering what meaning can I find in this journey, and then yesterday, the meaning was staring me right in the face. Essentially with her dementia, Mom is teaching me to "live each day."
I arrived at my childhood home with good energy. It was a crisp, late fall day--the day my brother was born 54 years ago. Instead of entering the home with a tight plan as I have done too many times, I arrived with a loose-tight plan and an open mind. I started by assessing the situation to see what needed to be done. Dad was clearly ready for a break so he left for a woodsy walk. Mom was happily resting. I checked in with her and found her to be willing to engage in some positive routines, and then, as she rested, I prepared a Thanksgiving-like fall dinner which filled the home with good smells.
Later, my cousin Christine and her husband Kevin visited to enjoy the meal with us. Mom wasn't interested in the food, so she continued to rest. Then one of the hospice workers arrived and I worked with her to make mom more comfortable. Everytime the hospice worker arrives, I work with her to learn more about how to help my mom--those hospice workers are truly angels.
Later, after the guests and hospice worker left, Mom got up, ate a little and visited with Dad. As soon as I said that I wanted to take a picture, she perked up (that's the Mom I have always known) and she happily posed for the picture with Dad, her husband of 69 years. Then it was off to rest again.
Clearly in this late stage of Mom's life, she's teaching me how to follow her advice to "live each day" which means meet each day with an open mind, a loving heart, and as good as possible energy. I appreciate this life lesson. Thanks Mom!