Mom loved to find things to do, not only for me, but for anyone in her family or community. Losing the ability to do things for others was devastating for her. Alzheimer’s is a wicked thief. The disease stole her sense of purpose, belonging, and community.
You know what else lives on? The flowers we planted together eighteen months ago. When I see them now, I have clear visuals of her jumping right in to be present with us, whether that meant putting on the garden gloves to dig in the soil or stripping them off, along with her hat and ear protection, to be fully present.
You have to make peace with your best not measuring up to expectations. Make peace with not enough.
Our love will motivate us to do better. But sometimes even better is not enough.
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