For years now, I have been promising to write a book about Mom.
First it was How Mom Forgot Nearly Everything and Began to Paint. Next How Mom Forgot Nearly Everything and Taught Me How to Live.
But I never got further than the title. I was trapped in the idea of a beginning, a middle and an end – a common enough structure for the story of a life.
But I hadn’t the means to tell the story of her life from beginning to end nor her transition to a life with Alzheimer’s. That was hers to tell. I could only observe it from the outside.
Mom’s story—or that of anyone living with dementia—is in the moments, fleeting, precious, irreplaceable.
I was lucky to join her there. Even luckier, I chronicled our time together—everything she said and did in real time.
This blog is about those moments. As will be the book. So, no more excuses. Working Title: Living in the Moment with Mom. Each moment paired with one of her paintings.
And here is another moment from October 2, 2013. Mom would have been 94, her cousin Frank 93 and sister Louise 92.
We have some wonderful home movies of Mom’s family dating from the 1930’s. Mom, her sister Louise and cousin Frank—all in their late teens and all gorgeous. Mom in a bathing suit, standing on her head; Frank—seemingly always in a sweater vest and tie, boating and golfing with his cousins and uncles; Louise swimming and looking incredibly lovely and happy.
I took my computer over to Horizon House last week to play the DVD for the three of them. I was hoping Mom would enjoy the films as much as Louise and Frank, but she quickly became bored.
I’ve already done that, she impatiently fidgeted.
Ah well, it’s not about me, I reminded myself. Mom and I left Louise and Frank to enjoy the movies and she and I went downstairs to play pool.
And a good time was had by all.