One Day at a Time
My mothers Alzheimer’s is getting worse. She has very, very good days, then a day or two of awful, awful days. She seems to be losing her ability to remember how to walk, how to hold things, how to perform tasks that have been simple for her until now. She is aware that she is unable to do these things and it is frustrating her. Her mind comes and goes, most of the time she is smarter than I am on a good day, but then has hours of not knowing who I am, or not remembering what has happened an hour before.
I was so upset tonight because she was bad this afternoon and Mike told me, “But she is still so happy.” Even in the bad—I had not even realized—that even in her frustration, she is smiling and giggly, and happy. She is always smiling. It took Mike to remind me, one day at a time.
Tonight when I was putting her to bed, she sang happy birthday to my dad…she told me how many birthdays he had been gone, and sang again. One day at a time.