The Gift of Gratitude

Note:  In a perfect blogging world, I would have spent the month of November on this topic, and I would have finished this article in time to post for Thanksgiving Day.  However, this is not one of those blogs; never did I intend for this site to be perfect, just enjoyable. It is now the Sunday after Thanksgiving as I sit and write this.  In all reality, I don’t know if I will even get this posted today; regardless, I am grateful, and I want to share why I am. Enjoy!

This time last year I was thankful my mother still knew who I was, and I expected she wouldn’t know me at all this Thanksgiving.  This year, I was pleasantly surprised - for at least several hours she did know who I was, and for all of the day I think she liked me. She definitely enjoyed being with her great grandchild and family and friends, and for that I am surely appreciative.

It is intriguing how as our perspectives shift, our gratitude shifts.  A child may create a gratitude list of toys; a teenager, friends and significant others; a young adult, a good job; a parent, children and family.  As I have aged, I have found that I am satisfied with witnessing others' gratitude.  A friend that has beaten cancer; another friend who has gotten excellent results from chemotherapy; my nephew grateful for his beautiful family; a friend who survived a horrifying accident.  The list is endless.

As my life has changed so have my lists, as I am sure yours has.  After my son died, it took me a long time to be grateful as the intensity of pain overwhelmed me.  I started counting little things, and I did so daily; it was all that moved me forward in life.  A beautiful flower, a stunning sunrise, a peaceful sunset, an “ah ha” moment in my classroom, a hilarious joke…  Eventually, I found gratitude again and was able to be grateful for the eighteen years I had with my son. 

Now, as I take care of my mother who has Alzheimer’s, my gratitude shifts to moments with her, more specifically the “her” I have known all my life.  Last night, we watched bloopers like we did years ago.  She didn’t get them all, but she laughed at most of them, and I think she enjoyed watching me laugh.  We also have started our Christmas viewing.  She hadn’t remembered fifty years of watching Frosty, but she enjoyed watching it for the “first” time.  These special moments are moving away from us being filled with a vacancy that is difficult to verbalize.  However, for now, I am grateful to have fleeting moments with my mom.

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Caretaking is Not for Sissies - My Thoughts on being a Caretaker for a Loved One with Alzheimer's

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The Day MZD Came Home