I tried to talk to Mama as I fed her the Easter dinner I’d brought over. But she’d mostly either holler or speak gibberish.
It reminded me of the time we’d just had with my six-month old granddaughter. She seemed to have whole conversations with my husband as she stood in his lap and very expressively spoke garbled words.
And Mama would do that, too. She’d look at me and speak. Often I could tell she was asking questions, but I couldn’t decipher enough of the words to guess at what she meant.
Except for a few exceptions. “I hate you!” still came out clearly. I answered Mama, “But I love you. Do you love me?”
“No,” she answered.
And yet we had a couple sweet moments. My daughter and husband came over to help me get Mom up from her nap, because her walking is so bad these days. My daughter and I changed her and got her in a fresh dress. Then my husband came in and helped us get her into the wheel chair.
As I was rolling her out of the bedroom Mama said, “Thank you.” Which is pretty much unheard of these days.
I was so pleased and said, “Mom, that’s so nice that you said thank you!”
“Yes, it is,” Mama answered. And I chuckled.
And then later, as I was cleaning up the dishes, after Mama’s meal, she said, “Be happy. Be happy.”
And that made me smile.
Alzheimer’s is such a tough road. There is so much to be burdened and sad and stressed about.
But today I can rejoice that Jesus died for our sins and rose again, and because of that all who believe can be forgiven and have a relationship with God and eternity with Him in heaven.
And today I can take joy in the time I had with my children and granddaughter. And I can smile because Mama said thank you.
Today I can be happy, because my mama told me to be. And those sweet words bring tears to my eyes. Happy tears.
I hope you have some today, too.
He is risen!