“…something good out of the storms…”

 

I love when the sun is blazing through your windows and it feels so great. The plants perk up, I perk up, the dog and cat look for spots in the sunshine to lay down. It makes the energy surge and I get lots of things checked off my list!! And then I look outside and see them. Black, black, black clouds. And there goes the sunshine. I have to turn the lights on during the day – it gets that dark. The dog and cat are hanging in there, and they are not moving, hoping the sun will return. Me, I know the predicted rain is about to fall.

In a nutshell, that is living with an Alzheimer’s patient, as their caregiver. Most of the time, my sunshine is our goodnight hugs and kisses. They are the best, and for now, that is when I see the mom I have always known. She peeks out as she lays her head down for sleep, clutching the comforter, as she sighs in joy over her big bed.

But moment to moment, we adjust in case the sun will really shine. We are learning, as a family, how to adjust to these moments that make us have to “turn the lights on during the day,” so to speak. And we also are learning to revel in those bright moments. Because this is a disease. I have to keep reminding myself. Always talking to myself inside my head. Because if I don’t do that, I get caught up in those big, black rain clouds. I could go on and on in using these weather terms, but truly, it resonated with me today.

My life will never “go back to normal.” None of our lives are really “normal” because “normal” keeps changing all the time. What is your normal will not be mine. And the normal I once had is gone. I am making our new normal. We constantly adjust to what comes at us. When you are a caregiver, I am learning that what we expect for our day to be changes moment to moment. Can’t lament the fact that the laundry doesn’t get done or that dinner we planned gets scrapped. We go from minute to minute. And I look for those smiles.

As I sit here, typing my thoughts, I look at my mom, trying to watch the morning TV shows. She is so confused. She does not understand most commercials, let alone a story line. Old movies, I thought, would please her. But there is not enough action or noise to keep her attention. Quite often she just stares at the view outside. Everyday she looks at the backyard and comments on the beauty. She loved seeing a wild moose walk across the road while we were driving, although she has forgotten it today. She loves looking at clouds and is always telling us about her grandfather, and how he had her lay on the ground and create shapes out of them. She loves to eat, although she insists she is never hungry. That may well be, but she is eating three full meals each day! And she always cleans her plate! I haven’t repeated a meal since she has been here, but I don’t think she would know if I did. And it makes me sad. Seeing the decline each and every day, gain its ground in her mind. So I try to not react to the moment, but remember the disease. It is a horrible disease, as it steals our loved ones. So much is ahead of us, and I know it’s gonna rain buckets before the journey is over. But I also know the Lord promised He would not give us more than we can handle, and He promised there would always be sunshine following the rain.

“No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.” 1 Cor 10:13
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