In order to live successfully, I had learned to play by the rules. I had always done my best to make sure I was doing it “right.” Then came Alzheimer’s. As much as I tried to apply that to our new situation, I could see it wasn’t working.
I wrote about that happening the night we joined Ron’s son and his family for dinner at their house.
We served our plates in the kitchen then carried them to the table in the dining area. I helped Ron with his plate first, then prepared my own.
As I approached the table to sit next to him and wait for the others to join us, he was already eating. The words spilled out of my mouth, reminding him that we needed to wait until everyone was seated before starting to eat. I sounded like a mom telling her child to practice good manners. It was taking me a while to understanding that our life had changed, and we were no longer “playing by the rules”.
An important part of caring for Ron involved discovering new ways to be in life, and letting go of what had been familiar to me. That was a steep learning curve, to say the least.
In the Prologue of Courageous Hearts, I referred to a poem written by a friend in which she described how the “obstacles” that we encounter in life can be seen as “high stepping stones,” which, when taken slowly and thoughtfully, build muscle and will, resulting in “a wider vision of reality.” Yet, building muscles takes practice. You usually have to go to the gym or lift weights over and over. Likewise, I saw that in caring for Ron I was getting a lot of practice. Slowly I began to notice that my vision of “reality” was starting to become wider and more accepting of the many ways our lives were changing.
I saw that my many attempts to get him to “play by the rules,” become the man I had known, and to “remember” weren’t working. Then, I had a realization one Sunday morning when I was making breakfast…
It was becoming very apparent that I needed to let go of my expectations and manage such occasions in a new way. I had trouble understanding that Ron was no longer able to change his behavior.
Suddenly, I am the one who has to change, flashed through my mind. It was more than just something I “knew.” It felt like the words were carved into my being that morning. All at once I was seeing our situation from a whole new perspective.
I remembered the quote from Victor Frankl,
When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.
~ Victor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning
And I have since learned about the wise words of Heraclitus,
Change is the only constant in life.
~ Heraclitus, Greek philosopher
Those quotes are important to remember when you find yourself caring for one with Alzheimer’s and find that the rules by which you previously lived your life are no longer working. That gives us the opportunity to change and explore a wider version of reality.
