Learning lessons from Mom again.

I’m still reeling from my whirlwind week last week: packing up Mom’s South Florida home, moving it to North Florida, unpacking it, and meeting my daughter for two days at Disney ! Every box is unpacked now, every picture is hung and all the furniture fit perfectly. David and I consider it to be a job well done, and it’s a delight to watch my Mom thrive in her new environment. She loves being where people have time to talk and honestly care about each other. I love thinking of her there, cozy in her TV room watching her shows at night.

We learned a lot along the way, too, about human nature, generosity, and the stubborn human spirit.

One priority for us was to make sure that most of the details in the home were taken care of before Mom even stepped off the plane to come to her new house. And that’s how David and I found ourselves potting plants at a local nursery and buying an ironing board and iron. We purchased picture hooks and anchors, trash baskets, trash bags. And then we saw a beautiful electric fireplace that could hold Mom’s new TV in her bedroom. It would add that warm touch to her room and finish it off so nicely. So we bought it, built it, set it in place and turned it on for her.

The day that Mom arrived was exciting for all of us: we had worked so hard and had so many fun surprises for her. Every idea she had thought of we had found a way to implement, right down to having her curtains recut for her new windows. And when Mom walked through the house for the first time, she was unbelievably impressed. She was impressed with how well her colors worked with her furniture, how everything fit just has she’d planned. She loved how cozy it all was.

Then came the moment where we revealed our fireplace. “And look, Mom, look what David and I got you for your television. It’s a fireplace for your room!”

She responded, “Oh, I know! It looks just like I thought it would!”

“But Mom,” we thought, “You never knew about this. We did it just to delight you.”

And so it went throughout the rest of the house. New items we’d purchased for her she took for granted like old friends. Ideas we’d thought of she claimed as her own. “I know! I knew that!” were her favorite phrases. It took David and me awhile to let go of our expectations of recognition. It was the Alzheimer’s talking, of course: we know that it’s hard for her to hold pictures in her mind long enough to realize that someone else had provided this for her. She was secure in her new home. It felt to her as if she’d done it all. In the end, that was all that mattered and we were so happy she felt so proud of her home.

But I learned a God lesson from the event, too. One that has stuck with me all week.

How often does God provide a gift, an experience, a delightful smell or a wonderful person to meet? How often does He shower one of his unexpected joys on us, and we look at it and say, “Oh I know. It’s just the way I planned it!”

God must wonder sometimes, if we have Alzheimer’s, too, that we don’t understand where the good gifts come from.

Tagged as: generosity