I recently made the trek to Prince Edward Island to visit my sister and mother (after whom I am named). I hadn’t been back east in three years. The last time I made the visit was because Mom had been hit by a car. She now lives in a senior’s facility on the Alzheimer’s ward.
On our first visit to see Mom we caught her just around lunch time. She sat at the head of a table with my sister and I on either side forming a nice conversational triangle. As it got closer to lunch we were joined by three other residents.
After chatting for a few minutes Mom looked to the woman at the other end of the table. Pointing from me to my sister and back she said, “This is my youngest daughter and this is my oldest daughter. This one’s name is Dorothy.”
The woman looked at me and replied, “Oh you poor thing.” We all chuckled. Then Mom looked at my sister and said, “You didn’t tell me she was coming.”
“Yes I did Mom, but you forgot.”
Mom looked at me shaking her head, “My memory just isn’t what it used to be.”
We continued chatting while Mom ate her lunch, discussing the weather, how nice the place was and how she liked the food. Then Mom looked to the woman at the other end of the table again. Pointing from me to my sister and back she said, “This is my youngest daughter and this is my oldest daughter. This one’s name is Dorothy.”
The woman looked at me and replied, “Oh you poor thing.” Again we all chuckled. Then my mother looked at my sister and said, “You didn’t tell me she was coming.”
“Yes I did Mom, but you forgot.”
Mom looked at me and shook her head, “My memory just isn’t what it used to be.”
This same scenario repeated itself several times during lunch. I finally said to my sister, “I feel like I’m living Groundhog Day.” She laughed.
Although Mom’s memory just isn’t what it used to be, I have to say she is more contented that I have seen her in years.
I was sharing this story with our office administrator, Ranza, when she said to me, “I like to think that no matter what, eventually we default to peace.”
What a wonderful insight. It says it all. It’s like a switch inside of us and, when it’s needed, we default to peace. We spend our lives looking for that elusive switch. It’s reassuring to know that whether I stumble upon it or not, just as it did for Mom, it’ll find a way to turn itself on.