Where Do I Begin?

These last 72 hours have been bitter-sweet.

My mother was diagnosed with full-blown dementia with Alzheimer's tendencies,and, we celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary. And, oh, did I mention, that my mother has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's? Up and down like the thrill of the beastliest roller-coaster, our emotions have weathered all of the curves, bumps, startling turns, as well as metal scrapping metal and bodies bouncing and screaming with delight and dismay all woven together without anyone being able to discern their intersections.

I love to write - I'm most likely not a prize-winning writer, but a writer all the same. Writing is something I enjoy; something that takes the edge off for me and allows me to express my feelings. As Larry and I celebrated our anniversary this weekend, we talked about ways I might emotionally travel through these next unknown days, months, or possibly even years. I would write. It would be cathartic for me and it might be helpful to someone else who finds themselves going through such a journey.

I've titled my blog, "Web of Darkness". When you think about a spider-web you think about the light that flows between the lines of the web. There is both darkness and light. That's where my mother is right now, somewhere between darkness and light. There are days of clarity and days of confusion, but never in the same quantity. The person I live with changes each day and more recently each hour.

Rule #1 of Alzheimer's: Don't argue - agree. Friday, Joan's driving privileges were taken from her. Sunday, she's expected to give family members a grocery list. This fiercely independent woman is expected to give up the keys to her independence with one hand and give a grocery list to someone with the other. As you might suspect, she did not come up with more than milk and bread. When asked for more items, she became confused, stood up and said, "you think I don't can do anything." "Please sit down while we make out a list that I can take to the grocery," I calmly pleaded." At that, she kept going up the stairs to her residence, all the while murmuring, "I'll just starve then. Nobody thinks I can do anything for myself."

At that, what could I do? One more hour of the journey had begun, the journey between dark and light; the journey between sanity and insanity; the journey between feeling guilty and not guilty. A journey I prayed I was equipped to travel; a journey I didn't ask for.