Out of Kindness I Suppose

I spoke with my mom today, Little Sid. She has dementia so we have amazing conversations. I like hearing whatever is going on in her head. She sometimes tells stories of when she was little or what she imagines is going on outside. But she usually leaves me something to think about. I like to believe its clues to her true feelings inside. Because after all, she is still very much alive and thinking, its just that she has a condition.

Little Sid loved fresh flowers and pretty things decorating her house. She loved the windows open and the house all clean, which it seldom was. She loved vegetables, bright flavors in her cooking. P wanted a light dinner, so I whipped up a quick chicken stir fry with tri-colored bell peppers, yellow and green squash and mushrooms. Each color gave its own special flavor to the dish.

Sometimes I get sad because my mom doesn't get to enjoy all these things much anymore. But she doesn't seem to miss good food or anything actually. She is content in a peaceful kind way.

When I make dinners like this, I always think of Little Sid and how I used to like to watch her eat her plates of cool colorful foods at home after work, nothing like the heavy meals she prepared at the restaurant. She was happy and content at that moment. A rare sighting. Even though dementia is a hardship I feel she was given some of the peace and tranquility she worked so hard to achieve but never did. She became the beautiful bright presence in the room.