All is Well

 

Mum often calls me with concern in her voice, over one thing or another.  I'll spend some time chatting with her and we will end our conversation by repeating to each other, "all is well."  These three little words have become words of comfort to Mum and me, since the poem of the same name, by Henry Scott-Holland, was shared with me after my father's death.  The end of the poem says, 

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you, for an interval, 

Somewhere very near, 

Just around the corner, 

All is Well

For Mum and me, these words are a comforting reminder that Dad is here, still a part of our lives, and that all is completely well.  These words, have become something of a mantra when we are maneuvering through life's challenges. 

Gamma - so many of us know her as Gamma - has dementia.  We've seen it coming for a while, and it was recently made official.  The diagnosis, in my mind, changes nothing.  Mum has a terrible memory, and always has.  She's disorganized and gets confused at times, and she always has.  She frets, and she worries, and she calls me when she's a mess, and she always has.  It's just that now, everything is just a little bit worse. Now, she needs a little bit more support, and she's getting it.  

The covid years have not helped.  All of her social activities stopped: her classes at the YMCA, her lunch bunch, her bird walks, interracial meetings, coffee mornings, and movie nights.  She spent most of those long weeks and months in her home with Reese, her feline soulmate. Much of her "decline" happened over the course of that isolation.  

But, it is what it is, and all is well.  

I suppose I've been practically and emotionally preparing for this moment for some time.  At times, I'll admit, I denied (out loud) what I was seeing.  It's OK, though, because Mum has been amazing in her coping, really, since Dad died.  She's the strongest and most capable person I've ever known. Just now, she needs a little more; a little more reassuring, a little more hand holding, a little more urging (nagging, if you will), and a little more pampering.  I'm here for it, one hundred percent.  

I recently read an article in The Atlantic, entitled, The Two Choices That Keep a Midlife Crisis at Bay.  The first choice is:  Choose to focus on what age gives you, not what it has taken away.  This advice was just what I needed, right when I needed it, and not because I'm facing a midlife crisis.  This is now what I'm choosing to focus on during my journey with Gamma. I will choose to focus on what dementia is giving us, not what it is taking away?

What is dementia giving us? Primarily, it's giving us time together.  Now that she needs more support, my brothers and I are taking turns staying with Mum for extended periods.  We've never had this opportunity before - time to spend, time to be, time to experience small moments and small delights together, and time to consider our priorities.  Dementia is giving mum the ability to allow people to help her.  It's giving us the opportunity to care for the one who once worked so tirelessly to care for us. It's giving my brothers and I an opportunity to connect again with a higher purpose, and it's giving Gamma an opportunity to rest.

 

I will expand on this and tell you what dementia has not taken away.  Dementia has, first and foremost, not taken away Gamma's love for rum.  It has not taken away her intense interest in learning, and nature, and history.  It has not taken away her silly sense of humor, and it has not taken away her ability to laugh at herself.  She is still introspective, and likes to have discussions about her "memory problems," and she is especially amazing at accepting advice on how to take care of her brain.  She is also able to employ coping skills to adapt to some of her newer limitations.  If anything, she is twice as strong and resourceful as she has ever been, and that is saying a lot. Gamma is happy.  She loves her home, enjoys her daily walks, spends time with her friends and neighbors, and delights in the natural world that surrounds her. 

And no, I'm not kidding myself.  I know that this thing is degenerative.  Right now, though, this is how it is, and right now is all we ever really have.  

So, it's OK, this new phase of life.  Life changes and presents new challenges, and we must rise to those challenges.  And we will rise.  And we will will enjoy the little things, knowing that they are, in fact, the big things.  

All is well. 💖