Alzheimer's: The good, unexpected moments
I had many surprises and accidental discoveries during Mom’s Alzheimer’s journey. One in particular unexpectedly helped create healing for me.
For several years, my mom came to stay with me when my dad went on the big annual fishing trip with the men in our family. One year, likely the final one when she was able to tolerate the trip to Raleigh, I took her to lunch at the NC Museum of Art, thinking it would a quieter place and easier to get to than somewhere in downtown Raleigh.
Mom had never been an art museum person. She was a social lady and did lots of different things, but my love of the arts was something we never really shared. I was touched when one year for Christmas – I was likely in college – she gave me Monet poster. That gift, that she came up with on her own, was very much out of her wheelhouse, but she knew I loved him.
I had chosen the art museum’s Iris restaurant for lunch because of its location, relative calm, and that it was a special place. My husband and I often went there for occasions like our anniversary, and I wanted to treat her.
Mom and I arrived without a reservation, and the kind hostess told us there would be a bit of a wait. She invited us to look around the museum until a table was available. We took the pager she gave us, and I guided us towards the galleries with portraits, away from the more avant garde sections, not sure Mom would like modern art.
We took our time, walked slowly and took in the works. Honestly, I was killing time, worried Mom might get impatient. Again, an art gallery is not a place she would have gone on her own. Then Mom turned to me and said, “This is such a peaceful place. I love it here.”
My heart melted. Mom and I had the best time walking around the Museum of Art together. Then we had a delicious lunch. I brought her back several more times on her visits to Raleigh, even bringing my daughter and Dad with us.
That day had been a wonderful discovery.
Fast forward to December 2023. As the one-year anniversary of my Mom’s passing approached, I knew I wanted to do something to acknowledge it. I asked my boss for the day off work, to which she kindly agreed, knowing I would be worthless for concentration that day.
I needed to be alone, and my husband ended up being home sick. So, I decided to visit a place that held special significance. I headed to the NC Museum of Art, where I spent the day. The museum was the perfect quiet spot to pause and remember.
I took my time walking through the galleries, looking at art with no one to pace me. I made that day all about me and what I needed, being somewhere I love and had happy memories with Mom.
I looked until my heart and mind were full, then got lunch in the casual café, not up for sitting alone in the fine restaurant where Mom and I had dined together. I then took a long walk on the museum trail, pausing to sit down on a bench and call my Dad.
The final piece of art I saw that day, on my way to the café, was a painting by Beverly McIver, who is one of my favorite North Carolina artists. I’ve always loved the painting and when I read the accompanying plaque, I knew Mom was sending me a sign that I’d spent the day in the right way.
Entitled “Truly Grateful,” the piece is a self-portrait. Part of the museum’s description reads: “Following a period of stress and hardship after the death of her mother, McIver expresses her gratitude and shows an almost spiritual moment of calm. It captures a moment when, as the artist says, ‘Life is good’.”
Yes. Despite the heartache of Alzheimer’s, I can honestly say that thanks to the many unexpected blessings along the way, “Life is good.”
