Look at the clouds

August 15, 2021

My mother, who suffers from Alzheimer’s, has lost so much because of this hideous disease: memories, independence, control, purpose, and friendships. Mom currently lives in a Memory Care Facility and never gives up hope that whenever we visit, we might be there to take her back home. She misses our dad, who died 35 years ago. She misses her car and would love to drive off on some errands. She misses being in charge of her own life. But, everyday she greets people with a smile, and says she is still grateful to be here.

I watched a short film about gratitude today on YouTube called “A Good Day” by Louie Schwartzberg (2007). Flashes of different clouds and skies appear as Brother David Steindl-Rast tells us to be amazed at the beauty of the world. He says,“Open your eyes and look at the sky… We so rarely see how different it is moment to moment with the clouds coming and going. See the clouds. The formation of clouds will never be the same that it is right now.” He reminds us that each day is a unique gift that we need to appreciate.

Mom always looks at the clouds.  She admires them every time we go outside.  She marvels at their different shapes and can recognize animals or objects in their formations.

“Look at the clouds, Karen. That one looks like a pirate ship!  See the sails billowing out behind?”

“I do mom.”

“And that one over there – it looks like a big dog just sitting there like a good boy.” 

“Yes, he does look like a good boy – he looks like a lab or a golden retriever.”

“And that one over there – looks like two kids swinging.”

Granted, she has the eye of an artist, but if I follow her gaze, I can also see what she describes.  When I take the time to listen to her as she looks at the world around her with delight, I also see the beauty she sees. She notices things the rest of us don’t because she is in the moment most of the time.   

Alzheimer’s has robbed her of most of her past, but has given her the gift of seeing each day anew. Every time I come to visit her she greets me enthusiastically. “Welcome!  Come sit down.”  

Whenever we go for a drive, she comments on everything she sees: the beautiful sky, fluffy clouds, mountains on the horizon, colorful flowers, unique buildings, and the various shapes of trees. She is especially delighted when she spies a blue car.  In this way, Alzheimer’s disease is a gift to her.  And in turn she offers this appreciative way of seeing the world to us – her family.  She used to worry about so much, but now inspires us to stop, open our eyes, and look at the clouds; to be more present.  For that I am grateful, and each day that we get to spend together is a good day.