Mom thanksgivingMy heart broke a little – in a good way. I am full of gratitude and wonder at the gift of a whole day with my mother who’s childlike ease and rare lucidity was a slender ray of sunlight in the thick fog of Alzheimer’s. She let me bath her (she actually wanted me to bath her without being coaxed). She specifically asked for rouge when I made up her face. The awkward moment and confusion caused when I somehow did not mimic the usual way we pull her bra over her head was forgotten in her glee of recognition that the pink roses on her socks matched the sparkly pink rose on the shirt we chose together for the holiday dinner. She declared with wonder how “everything looked totally different” on the drive over the mountain pass which I thought might trigger her typical anxiety of the “unfamiliar” as we passed old homesteads with old barns (new to her). When I asked her to pick her favorite from two photos I took of her in the backseat of my truck she thought they were both good “Because I am so beautiful” she said laughing. Later, sitting between Raymond and I at his folks lovely table surrounded by his family, my frail little fragile bird-of-a-mom wanted a serving of every single Thanksgiving dish. Mom eats only finger food since utensils confuse her, so I felt a bit of panic when I looked at her plate heaped full of yummy messy food like mashed potatoes with gravy and sweet potato casserole. The spoon I gave her she eventually replaced with a fork. A FORK…! She slowly ate everything on her plate; pure joy. What a mystery our minds are. Life served my mother and I a slice of sweetness – a precious delicate exquisite unforgettable clear day wrapped in grace surrounded by a family full of love and kindness. Mom shone.