Recently, I have connected with a number of other caregivers on Twitter. Most of them are authors who have written about their experiences as caregivers. Others are people who are working to educate the public about the variety of issues surrounding Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia.
It has been especially encouraging for me to discover how many other caregivers are able to find moments of pleasure in the midst of the changes that are ongoing for the ones they care for. It is not that everything is rosy or that no one has experienced frustrations and other challenges. It’s that there are always moments of pleasure as well.
It’s almost 2:30 p.m., and Kate and I have faced both the good moments and more challenging ones today. Her good mood from the very beginning of this day is sufficient to make me say it’s been a good day, but there is much more for which we are both grateful. It’s a cool, rainy day, and we are sitting in front of the fireplace in our family room, something we both enjoy but don’t take advantage of very often. Of course, I have music playing in the background. She is working puzzles on her iPad while I write this entry for my blog. All is well right now, and I am confident the rest of the day will be the same.
At the same time, we have had a few moments I would have preferred not to have experienced. Even though she’s been in a good mood, she has gotten irritated with me a few times. One of those was when she thought I was taking too long to get ready for Panera this morning. When we got in the car, instead of saying something like, “Give me a break. I’ve been waiting two hours for you to get up,” I said, “I guess I do keep you waiting sometimes.” She responded in a very forgiving way and said, “You don’t keep me waiting very often.” Her irritation was over.
Twice at lunch she asked me “Where are we?” I told her Knoxville. The second time I added, “Would you like to guess what state?” She quickly said, “Tennessee” and added, “See, I’m smarter than you think I am.” It saddens me when I see her unable to easily identify where we are when we are not traveling. Just a few months ago, this would not have been a problem.
When I ordered a kale salad at lunch, our server told me they were out of kale. I ordered another salad and asked if I could have a serving of brisket with it. As she walked away, Kate said, “What was that all about?” She hadn’t been able to follow our very brief and simply conversation. When I see instances of her being confused over normal things like this, I have a greater appreciation of her inability to understand what is happening in movies or plays. She is able to enjoy musical theater and opera because of the music itself even if she doesn’t have any idea of the plot or who are the primary characters.
I know all too well that in the long run that many of life’s current pleasures will not provide the same enjoyment they do now. For now, we live in the moment and are grateful.
