Alzheimer’s, dementia, or any other alias this mind robber uses is difficult to navigate & I often question my choice to expose my family’s fight. One of my son’s football coach’s best summed it up with his catchphrase, “…that was a poor life decision…”.

Some days, you just have to find a crack & let or force some light in. Light to combat shadow, light to offset the heavy, light to fend off sundown. Sundown, the word every caregiver of this dreaded disease’s victims hates. As the younger, hipper crowd of keyboard warriors express, “IYKYK”.

A few weeks ago, the light was my mom with legs draped over the footboard of her bed, celebrating her 85th birthday. Today, the light was that a part of mom is still hanging around. My mom had a Scotsman’s sensibility when it came to giving away either coins or compliments, short arms & deep pockets. My father used to say if he gave my mom a buffalo nickel, when she gave it back, the beast would be on its knees.

I visited her assisted living facility today & shared some sunshine with her & her friend Kat. I wore a shirt with my school logo on it & Kat inquired as to what I do there. I told Kat & informed her of my normal daily duties but today I pitched 9 innings of relief as chef.

Hearing that, my mom who could cook, but was less than passionate about it, interjected to Kat, “…I never thought he’d be smart enough to teach but why would anyone want to spend that much time in a kitchen?”

A brief return of my mom. This disease has taken pieces, taken the light from my mom but today proved it’s not all dark yet. And that’s worth talking about…