I haven’t written for the last two months because I needed some space.
We have moved into the last phases of this illness, by all the neurologist’s accounts. Mom is losing speech. She is shaky with her balance. She needs help to walk. She needs help to eat.
There is an inevitability that wasn’t here before, or wasn’t here with as much realness. It’s an inevitability of loss that has been magnified because I can see the loss of what is most basic…eating, walking, talking. I’ve needed a little time to personally grapple with it.
What’s here now is chaos and calm. That’s the best way to describe it. There is not what I consider a large middle ground. There is either struggle and difficulty or peace and ease. They are opposites and yet they coexist. And it’s ok. I don’t think it’s realistic to expect only calm. Not with how difficult this disease is to understand and live with. And so what is realistic, and quite frankly probably a blessing, is that the chaos is measured and it is tempered with large reserves of calm.
For example…the chaos of trying to put on sunglassess…the calm afterwards of sitting and rocking on a porch…