A diagnosis from a specialist in Temple was made the other day. Alzheimer's. Mom's forgetting, confusion, anxiety, it is officially going to be called Alzheimer's now. She does not want us to call it that. She wants to be healed by God and given her life back. I think she wants to be given her mom, sister and dad back. They've all died, decades ago, in that order.
I think she wants time to study her interests, to read the Bible and pray. She also wants to grow the garden, experiment with new casseroles, to get old along with the new black & white kitty they adopted after their old black & white kitty died. I think.
She wants to play piano more, to sing and play for her small rural church. I had a boyfriend many years ago who came with me to her church when, on a rare occasion, she played and sang a solo. That was a different church. She's moved a few times and searched for her perfect rural home. The boyfriend turned to me and said "Wow! I figured she would be good but she's really really talented!" I reminded her of that the other day on the phone and she thanked me. Since they moved to this current house, five acres and a pond, further away, her piano has been in a bedroom because the living room is for my stepdad's TV watching talent.
Years back, I started encouraging her to teach piano from her home. She's a natural teacher with natural curiosity stitched into 84 years of perfecting techniques. She would sew more quilted jackets that say words about God across the back if she had the time. Not my style but truly high quality!
I want to tell her stories about her curious skillful life from now on, about our shared love for camping and adventuring. I want small, playful dances with her in the kitchen, tasting the pear preserves she canned years back. I want to sit at the old piano alongside her and play something I don't know how to play. I'll copy her notes and we'll laugh together. We have nearly the same face, especially when we smile.