A few years into my mom’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis, she and I were alone at her house one morning.
I told her that I was going upstairs to do a few things and to call me if she needed me.
After just a few minutes, I heard her calling out for me from her chair in the family room.
I went to the top of the stairs and yelled down to her.
“Mom? Are you calling me? Do you need something?”
“Yeah, it’s Mom. What time are you coming over to pick me up?”
I realized that she thought she was calling me on her cell phone instead of yelling up to me. We had a full conversation as if we were talking on the phone.
“Hey, Mom. I’m upstairs getting ready. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll wait here.”
“Okay, Mom. See you soon.”
I heard her snap her flip phone shut.
Some days, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
On one hand, it broke my heart that she thought we were talking on the phone when I had just told her I was going upstairs a few minutes before.
On the other hand, the pure innocence of it all warmed my heart and I thought it was so sweet.
I always missed my mom calling me on the phone to see if I wanted to pick her up to go out somewhere.
On that day, she did just that. It may have looked different than I ever thought it would — than I ever wanted it to look — but on that day, I decided to take it for exactly what it was.
So, I went downstairs and said, “Hey, Mom! I’m here to pick you up! Where do you want to go?”
And we went out for the day, like mothers and daughters do.
And I’m forever grateful that I chose to look at it that way.
(Photo from April 11, 2015. Mom passed on April 4, 2020.)