My Mom has Alzheimer's disease. This disease has received so much attention in the last few years that I don't need to elaborate. It's awful...enough said.
Mom and I have never been close and I'm not sure why. In past years, I would have rattled on about the why. But, as I age, I'm content to let the past lie quietly, a little bit of personal history that is what it is. I doubt there is further benefit from further examination.
Mom was often in emotional turmoil and that frustrated me. In my mid-30s, I saw the futility in trying to change her. I clearly saw a better way to a better relationship that involved nothing more than offering peace, compassion and love. Instead of frustration at what I perceived as her lack, I felt compassion for what I saw she was missing. It changed everything for me.
These days, Mom is sweet, agreeable and eager to please. She tries her best (and does an amazing job) to say the right thing. I realize that what I am seeing is Mom...unplugged. Unplugged from the striving, the distress, the uncertainty that this crappy world can elicit in each of us. Just like the musical artists that perform with acoustic guitars in an intimate setting, this is the best of Mom.