The Past Few Days

She woke up humming on Tuesday. That night she went to bed talking. "Your robe! It's beautiful!" Just a day before, and many days before that, Mom struggled to communicate. Gestures and partial words, eye movements gave me inklings as to what she was trying to say. It was easy when she wanted something to eat or drink, anything else left her frustrated and my heart breaking for her. But, Tuesday? This was new. Even the humming. Most days her noises were pops and chirps, banging and tapping on the table, with no rhythm or reason to it whatsoever. The perpetual cacophony grated on my nerves, but her level of agitation, and eyes that were vacant but for fear, left me feeling so helpless. There was no end in sight for either of us. 

Wednesday, some time around 10 am, Mom came alive. Her eyes no longer searched for me, for cues, for something to reassure her this was normal. She was animated and laughing. The "thing" she always did before her brain began to betray her, that sarcastic, superior, mocking thing she did when it came to things that were not her taste? There it was, in all its glory. What would normally ignite a disgust in me was a welcome site. "Let her snark, let her snip, let her get as offended and opinionated as she wants to be, at least she is alive," I thought. And she did. I dropped what I was doing and gave her my attention. I fueled that fire. I asked her if she liked my kitchen tiles. NO! I asked her if she wanted to go outside. NO! I asked her if she wanted me to go outside. YES! She hid behind her napkin. She talked to the "others" who were present with us. (We were alone) I rejoiced in the goodness of seeing Mom delusional but alert. 

Today? Well, it's a bit more of the same, although, today we have gone tile by tile. Do you like this one? NO! This one? YES! Do you want to go outside? It's too cold! Do you want me to go outside? YES! (I guess some things never change.) We have laughed. We have teased. She has been ceaseless energy and commentary. She has gushed over the cat and made faces behind my husband's back. We've listened to Big Bands and worship music. She has had my undivided attention; and, at this moment, as I type, she has quieted and begun to cat nap. There is a calm and blessedness that has settled in this place. There is a hope I've not felt for a long time. Has Mom been "cured" to some extent? I don't mean that, but this is a good day. These have been some very good days. I am grateful. And, to not share, even the smallest blessings we are given, is to withhold praise. So allow me to go on record as saying, "Thank You, Lord, for the last few days!"