"As soon as a [writer] stops observing . . . he becomes an evangelist, a politician. A person with Opinions. . . . The [writer] must be on the side of life, willing to surrender his 'beliefs' even . . . When one believes he has the Truth, he is no longer an artist."
from this book by Joyce Carol Oates
Yesterday I got an email from Mom telling me that she almost forgot how to spell my name, Kathleen, the name she gave to me 45 years ago. She wrote, "I guess that's what to be expected, but that doesn't make it any easier!"
Given that Mom has mid-stage Alzheimer's, I'm continually amazed at how aware she is of what she's losing.
As one geriatric specialist said, Mom is a smart, accomplished woman. Some people who are at her stage might be more debiltated; she might be losing a lot, but she still has a lot to work with.
That said, I'm trying not to obsess over every detail of her disease. Instead, I'm trying to enjoy every moment we have together. Tomorrow we'll go to my sister's house, eat pizza, and watch Idol. My nieces and nephew will be running around, and we'll embrace all we have. And we do have a lot: love, the present moment, and each other.