Beaches, Gratitude and Diapers
How to find and cultivate gratitude and why it matters.
It’s early June, but it’s been unusually cold and rainy. After almost four days of rain and clouds, finally the sun peeked out today. I was eating lunch in the backyard, soaking in the sunshine and multiple cuisines: Falafel, Mexican rice, Indian lentils, chicken, carrots, Mediterranean lentils and salad. As I ate, I was reminded of the phone call I had with my mother earlier today morning. She was talking about my father, who has Alzheimer’s.
It started about fifteen years ago and reflecting upon those years as a family — my mother, sister and I — it feels like a hike that starts with a barely-noticeable downhill aspect, but as you keep walking, the trail goes down steeper and becomes more challenging.
Nostalgia over the past flutters by every day, each memory seeming harder to accept than the one from the day before. Just writing a chronological list of our memories, thoughts and desires over the past two years, highlights how drastically reality and our expectations have changed and continue to evolve:
I wish he’d remember what a fun vacation we had at the beach a couple of years ago. How could he forget that we danced at the beach, his favorite song playing on the phone?
I wish he’d ask me about my life: how am I doing…
