Saturday, October 31, 2009

Sometimes at Night...

Nighttime is hard for me. I love Fall and Winter, but I am definitely on of "those" that dreads daylight savings. I won't admit to seasonal depression, but it's sad when it gets dark before Oprah ends (I know I'm being dramatic).

Really, I can't blame it on a time of year - it's anytime it starts to get dark outside. There's a little pang inside of me that triggers. I could never figure out what was wrong with me. I finally asked at counseling one day if it was normal to be sad when it starts to get dark outside. Cynthia's response was, "Yes."

For me, nighttime means another day is over, the world quiets down, and I don't have to be so strong for everyone. I lay in bed and think about what my mom is doing at the nursing home. On nights I'm in Dallas and I don't get to see her I pray that she is sleeping peacefully. Sometimes I look at the last picture I have of her on my phone before she went into the hospital and wonder what life would be like if she didn't have Alzheimer's. I wonder if my brother, sister, and I carry the APOE4 gene. I wonder if it's true that we probably won't show signs of dementia until we are in our 70s or 80s if we do carry that gene. I wonder if there will be a cure by the time I am her age. But more than anything I wonder, "Why Mom?"

-- Post From My iPhone


Linds said...

Mare, I'm so sorry. I have come to decide that the question why is the shortest question to ask God, but also the most complex. I love you and am praying for you, and wishing that you and your family didn't have to go through this.

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