On April 12, 2022, I knew it was coming, but I didn’t know it was 62 days away. Honestly, even on June 12, 2022, I didn’t know mom would take her last breath the next day. I began following mom’s Alzheimer’s journey on October 4, 2017, loosely at first but more closely as we approached that last breath.

While many more were squeezed by or washed in this journey, 54 blog posts since 2017 were focused on it.

A Return Journey

Beginning next week, I’ll revisit Alzheimer’s Bull, one post a day each day until June 12, the last time I shared space and breathed the same air with mom. The posts will flow with notes about the moment, what I did and didn’t anticipate, and what I carry forward.

I’m not sure where this will take me or how it will serve others. The task beckons, and I can’t not answer its call. I offer it in honor of mom and in support of all Alzheimer’s victims, those who battle Alzheimer’s Bull directly and those caught in the Bull’s path.

This is not an exercise in wallowing in the trouble; I don’t typically re-read books or re-watch shows and movies. I’m taking this on because revisiting the words that emerged around this journey will help me metabolize the loss.

Hopefully, the words will comfort those in the middle of the journey, if only with the knowledge that it’s hard. That we’re imperfect. That what we suffer is too much and what we do is never enough, yet we are always enough.

This is also for those on the other side of the journey. To remind them that they were enough. To help them make space for excavating the gems from the experience, because there are treasures, there are blessings.

I hope you’ll join me for a little healing and more connection.

©Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2023.