Angie & Jim

Every Word is a Giftby Jim

Today was another quiet day.  This morning we read scriptures with Mom, which I know she appreciated.  Afterwards, I fed her some applesauce, which she was thoroughly enjoying, and she actually said (with unusual clarity), “that tastes really good.”  Her words are usually difficult to understand and I can tell it takes her effort to say them.  A few times today she tried to say something, but all we could hear was muttering.

We watched our daily routine of YouTube favorites, which Mom always enjoys.  (One blessing of losing your short-term memory is the same stuff doesn’t get old!)  It is so good to see her smile and hear her laugh.  What a blessing it is that we can still brighten her day and that she is peaceful and comfortable enough to enjoy a little humor.

Later this morning I sat with Mom and told her stories from our childhood and others from more recent years.  I told her about our infamous camping trip to Hawai’i, our visit to the Tillamook Cheese Factory, trips to Disney World and Universal Studios, and many others.  I talked about how she loves to explore in the tide pools and find all sorts of creatures during low tide.  I told her about the time raccoons ate all our food while Angie and I were camping with Joey and Kelly at Oswald West.  She seemed to really enjoy all of it because she was looking right at me and had a beautiful smile on her face.  It really was a very precious time for me to spend with her.  Jon also had a similar experience with relating tales from his recent trip to Thailand — Mom doesn’t speak much but you can tell when she’s able to pay attention to you and she’s attentively listening.

Something strange happened this afternoon while Mom was napping.  Angie and Jon were out running errands and Dad was in the other room.  I was quietly sitting watching Mom while she slept.  She took a deep breath, almost a yawn, and then reached her arms up past her head in a stretch.  Her movements lately have been very slow and quivering, but this was fast, just like a normal stretch.  In that brief moment, if I hadn’t known about her condition, I wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong.  I realized it must be an indication of what is going wrong in her brain.  Her body is still quite functional, but her mind is progressively disconnecting from her ability to control her body.

This afternoon we got a visit from the local bishop and John, Mom & Dad’s home teacher.  John is a contractor by trade and spent time here several weeks ago installing railings and other safety features as Mom’s health declined.  The two of them stopped by to chat and thank Mom for the wonderful work she’s done in this ward, and especially in the scouting program.  They were so gracious and loving in their words of comfort.  It was neat to see how much they appreciate her.  It is a treat to see people I don’t even know caring so sincerely for my mom.

Tonight Mom wanted to go to bed a bit earlier, so we had more time for singing, which was great.  We were a little braver about trying to sing parts instead of just unison.  I kept asking Mom if we should keep singing and she kept nodding, so it must not have been that bad.  We got off topic a bit about how our family enjoyed making up silly lyrics to hymns or other tunes, and we tried to sing the Dehydrated Carrots song.  (Do any of you older kids remember the words to that one?) That got Mom giggling — she must have remembered it.  My favorite part of the day is singing to Mom at night.  Thank you, Rebecca, for starting that tradition when you came to visit last week.

The sweetest moment of the day was when I asked mom if she had liked our singing and she quietly said, “Yes, I love it.”  As we left the room, Jon put it best by saying that “every word Mom says now is a gift.”  Every smile, every chuckle, every word is a gift.