My mother passed away last Thursday. From Alzheimer’s Disease, not Covid19 as you might be wondering.

If you have, or have had, a loved one with Alzheimer’s Disease, you know saying goodbye is a process that lasts many years as you watch the person you love disappear. Yet you are still needing to love and care for a person you no longer recognize, which is especially hard when they no longer recognize you. You latch on to fleeting moments when their eyes light up. Your heart jumps as they suddenly seem to remember who you are (or at least that’s the story you tell yourself). Then just as quickly the glimmer leaves their eyes. Their blank stare returns and they look right through you as though your shared experiences, inside jokes and a lifetime of knowing you better than anyone else in the entire world never happened. Their memory is gone yet unfortunately yours remains. New memories are unwillingly forged into your brain that you pray daily to forget. At least that’s been my journey these past ten-plus years with my dear mom.

Now I’ve said my final goodbye.

While there is definitely grief, I’ve been surprised by the relief I’ve been experiencing too.

​​​I had no idea how much energy it took to stay brave and strong. To advocate for her needs. To battle my desire for her to go quickly and not suffer in a life she would never choose while at the same time wishing I could hold onto her forever. …but not like that. Alzheimer’s is a cruel disease, especially for someone like my mom whose memory was truly remarkable. Until it wasn’t any more. “If it can happen to her, will it happen to me?”, became the question my sisters and I have asked ourselves more often than we can likely recall (no pun intended). My mom loved puns.

As I’ve moved through these few days since her passing, I’ve been asking myself what lessons she taught me that I might want to pass on to the world at large, and you specifically. Two came to mind straight away. I’m sure I’ll think of more that I’ll wish I had shared instead (because there were so many), but here’s what’s top of mind at the moment:

Two top-of-mind life lessons my mom taught me…

#2 Make every day count

My mother played piano beautifully. She could play by sight and by ear. She played whenever she was asked and her music brought joy to any gathering.

Her piano playing was the last piece of “mom” we watched leave.

Her daily practice just for her own joy slowly petered out until she only played when we guided her to the piano bench. She would sit down and play only one song: “What A Difference A Day Makes”. She’d play it over and over as if she couldn’t believe her own fate.

You only get one ride in this body and you can’t know what cards you’ll be dealt.

As Wayne Dyer used to say, “Don’t die with your music still inside you.”

Mom lived a good life and had many adventures that most of us only dream of. I’m sure there was more she wanted to do, and dreams that were left unfulfilled, but she kept her music playing as long as she possibly could – literally and figuratively.

What music is in you that you’d regret never playing?
If not now, when?
Make every day count.

#1 You are perfect just as you are

“I ordered a perfect girl and I got you,” she’d say. (I’m guessing she said that to my sisters too. 😉😜)

Sometimes (often) that felt hard to live up to. But I knew what she meant; that we are all born perfect. There’s no need to change who you are to please anyone else. …yet we do that all the time, right?

What I’ve come to know is that your life continually presents you with lessons that shape who you are. But fundamentally, you ARE already perfect. It’s when you step away from your innate perfection that you struggle because you no longer feel that alignment with YOU.

I think my mom wanted me to hold on to the knowing of who I was born to be. The True Me that lives inside. Not the one I’ve learned to show up as.

Thanks for that anchor, mom, as I journey ever closer to accepting my inner perfection and living from that space. And thanks for never failing to hold that vision of who I really am.

You were, in my eyes, the perfect mom. Thank you for placing your order for one more little girl.

I’ll do my best to make every day count by dancing to the music that plays in my soul.

Love you mom. Goodbye, again. You’re free at last. Play “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” for me! ❤️