Learning Humility

I am not a religious person; there are a lot of reasons for that, none of which do I particularly care to discuss.

I am, at the same time, a deeply spiritual person.

I believe that there is a greater order to the universe, and that I am not the highest power in it.

Days like today... I remember that.

My fiance's mom has Alzheimers, and she is currently undergoing treatment for that. Every two weeks, he takes her to the doctor's office, they give her a mild sedative to help with the anxiety, she receives an infusion , and he brings her back home.

The entire process (from leaving the house to returning) takes about four and a half hours. Then it is another several hours before the disorienting effects of the sedative wear off enough that she can safely be left alone to go to bed.

Separated from her 'familiar' surroundings, she oscillates between being relatively cognizant and aware, and alternatively, being combative, anxious, frustrated, and confused.

This is the nature of her disease.

She doesn't always know where she is going. She doesn't always know that she's been.

She becomes irritable and scared and I absolutely cannot fault her; it's got to be a terrifying thing to flux in and out of a world you barely know.

I watch my fiance, with seemingly endless patience, help his mother in and out of the car, in and out of the office, in and out of that state of paranoia. He answers her questions, he makes sure she is cared for, he makes her life as simple and easy and livable as anyone possibly could.

I answer a question, I answer it twice. I answer it, and I answer it, and I answer it, and then, for a few relieving moments it is quiet. And then she asks it again.

And, at the end of the day, I am human.

I get mad because this wasn't what I thought I signed up for.
I get mad because my patience wears thin.
I get mad because when I get angry, I feel as though I'm not good enough.
I get mad because I have no idea what the future is going to hold.

I get mad because I get scared that the entire situation is so completely beyond my control.

There is nothing I can do to change the effects of her Alzheimers.
I cannot make the pain, the sorrow, the frustration any easier for W - nor would it be of service to either of us for me to do so, though I so much wish that I could.

I can be there.
I can help W remember to breathe.
I can help him watch his mom, so that we can work in shifts.
I can support and encourage, and try to remember that there is something to be learned, to be gained from all of this.

It is hard to practice patience.

It is hard to see love in such a form.

It is hard to watch someone I love go through something like this.

It is hard to go through it myself, whatever separation I may have.

It is not easy; that I know. I also know that inside every pain, there is a beauty to be found, if only I can find it and focus.

I am not the highest power in this Universe, and on days like today, I remember that.