The Blessing in Forgetting

A friend wrote this. I think it's too good not to share, so I asked for and received permission to publish it here.

Alzheimer’s and Glory

My mother is losing her memory. She lives in New York with her husband. My sisters have homes near her, about five miles away. I live in Texas. I tell you that because I don't want to cheat anyone out of what I'm about to say. What I mean is that I know it isn’t easy, dealing with someone who has Alzheimer’s, but that my point is further away in a hope of Heavenly things. I've seen something remarkable inside this so called loss.

My mother has lived a hard life emotionally. I don't pity her or feel sorry for her. I do have compassion, though. And I think she'd rather have that than the other.

It used to be difficult to talk to her - all of those defenses up, protecting herself from being hurt. So much judgment spoken into her life, that you had to be careful what you said because, to no fault of her own, it would feel like insult and razors to her.

When I speak with her on the phone now, there is an ease about it that wasn’t ever there before. She doesn’t so much laugh, but giggles when she tells me she falls down a lot, and I tell her she has to work on her landings. Like a child she listens and if she doesn't understand she can just ask again, over and over, and not feel stupid or embarrassed, like we've been trained to do as so called - grownups. I don't hear the defensive breath being held, waiting for the slight to drop. I don't hear her wheels spinning, thinking of counter statements to wag back if she feels hurt or threatened. What I hear is a clean slate. I hear a spirit where there is no condemnation, nothing to come up and compare or feel guilty about. And it's no effort on her part. I mean, she's losing her memory. It isn't as though she's making some willful choice to not remember. And I can't help but wonder if that's what it must be like when we get to Heaven - and finally lose our memory and fully taste what it means to not keep any record of wrongs. God bless you, Mom. Thank you for revealing this hope to me. I love you. I love you. I love you.