Thursday I moved Mom into a Memory Care room.

Thursday I moved my Mom into a memory care room.

It’s in the healthcare center of Sharon Towers, where she has lived the last three years.

It was expected.

That’s how Alzheimer’s rolls.

Slow and steady with fits and spurts along the way.

I could choose to make up stories about how Alzheimer’s is stealing my mother away from me.

I could dwell on the story that any day now she won’t know who I am.

But that’s not my reality.

My story that is true or truer than those painful stories is that I am glad my mother is being released from the rules she had about herself.
She doesn’t feel the need to skip sweets.
She has forgotten to worry about money.

My reality is that I am a rock star in her mind because I can find the bathroom when she can’t.
I can turn on the TV, and even change channels.

She wants me around and relies on me.

And I love that I get to return the favor since she spent all those years raising me.

I don’t feel delusional.
I feel a deep connection with my mother and myself.

What story do you choose to think about your challenges?