Last year I shared a story about an unconventional inheritance my mom gave me. If you missed it, you could read it here and then re-join me for the rest of the story.
After I wrote this, I printed it out and took it to my mom, thinking she might want to read it since she had taken an interest in my newly started entrepreneurial journey. Over the next few weeks, I would notice it lying in different spots around her house, but she never mentioned reading it. At this stage of her life, reading is often interrupted by fleeting thoughts about other things and conversations tend to trail off without an idea fully communicated. Eventually I noticed that the story had landed in a stack of junk mail, magazines and greeting cards that had outlived their season. At this point, I realized that the thought of it had passed, and I knew she probably wouldn’t read it. I brushed off a few cracker crumbs and threw it in the trash with the rest of the stack. While this scene might have been hurtful in earlier years, at this point I take no offense.
Fast forward six months, mom has been hospitalized twice and is now diagnosed with advanced dementia.
I was sitting on her bed one sunny afternoon while she was reclined in the chair beside me. We were having a good visit together as our conversation flowed easily about happy things and my updates from my immediate family held her attention.
Because we were having such a good day, I felt compelled to tell her something I think all moms want to hear. “You have done a great job being our mom.” She responded, “I tried my best.” (Isn’t that what all moms hope for.) In our conversation I mentioned a few specific things that she had done that I remember from our childhood, one of which was learning about all the names of the flowers in the previous story. In that moment, there was a little light in her eyes and her expression had brightened. She was trying to remember something she had read… maybe a book… she wasn’t sure. She could not quite remember all of the specifics of the story. I sat quietly waiting for her to piece the details together. Whenever mom tries to remember something, I can’t help but try to remember too. My thoughts scroll through all the things I know about her and what she might say, in case I can help fill in the gaps. I sat there quietly, and I could tell she was trying hard to grab hold of the memory. She slowly shared about an author who was talking about riding in the car with her mom… and the mom would point out different flowers to her two daughters. My mom remembered that the author commented about how much this experience has meant to her as an adult. I just sat there listening as mom pieced together the story as she had experienced it as a reader. Then she said, “I just remember when I read it…I just thought… that is really nice.” Our conversation went on as we talked about a few other memories that she had provided for our happy childhood, but I sat there, surprised that she had read the story and stunned that it had meant enough to her to share it back to me.
For anyone who has yet to experience the cognitive decline of a loved one, this is what I call a “golden moment.” Amidst all the chaos and confusion, there are these rare moments of clarity that you get to share. I believe these are little gifts from God specifically designed for those who are living alongside those with dementia or Alzheimer’s.
Every spring I am reminded of my unconventional inheritance. And every spring I try to share it with my son and husband so they can experience it too.
We all will inherit something…It may not be something you can hold in your hands or listed in a will. What are you inheriting? What are you leaving for your family and friends?
It may not be flower names. But what is it? Maybe, it’s a story that is lingering in your heart long after the details have faded. I encourage you to spend some time thinking about this. Start enjoying your inheritance or sharing it today.
