My Mom’s Pictures

I flew to Chattanooga this past weekend for a family visit. It was my first trip to see my mother since she recently moved into a memory care facility, and I was blessed to spend time with her, my dad, brother, sister, and their various families.

It is really difficult to see mom as
she loses her battle with dementia because the lady I see in front of me isn’t the person I remember. Dad made a comment that he hoped people would not remember her like she is now, and I understand his feelings.

I can pray for healing, but that would not restore the young mother who raised me or the friend she became later. I do pray for God to grant peace to the elderly lady who now holds my highest regard. If I cannot have back the time that has now flowed downstream, I can at least share a reflection of the eternal soul that lives inside the diminishing shell.

Saddened by her condition, I walked through the house mom and dad lived in for the past twenty-five years. Mostly, it is the usual stuff that I’ve seen a thousand times. This time though, I saw things differently.

Their house has pictures all around. That is not unusual for people their age. What is unusual is the lack of pictures with only her in them. Most of the pictures don’t have her in them at all.

She has lived a life full of adventure. She loved to travel and in addition to trips around these United States, she also made trips to Ireland, Scotland, Germany, Australia, Newfoundland, and other countries. But with all those famous places, there are no framed pictures of her standing next to a historic landmark. She didn’t feel important because of her surroundings.

Mom was the first person in her family to graduate from college, and she was fiercely proud of receiving her degree. Higher callings had delayed her schooling until later in life, and she graduated about the same time that I did. Her cap and gown still hang in an upstairs closet, and I occasionally stumble across a picture of her receiving her diploma in a box of jumbled photographs. Displaying her achievements doesn’t have value to her.

In the late ’80s, Glamour Shots became popular, and we gifted her with a photo session at the mall where they gave her a makeover and took various pictures in fancy clothes on colorful backgrounds. Those pictures are beautiful, and sometimes I find them thrown into a box with countless others. Capturing her best features didn’t matter very much either.

The “best” pictures of mom are never the ones that decorate the living areas. In her favorite pictures, she is frequently leaning to one side or maybe looking the wrong way when the picture was taken. I don’t think she ever noticed or cared.

The first thing I do when I find a picture with me in it is to see if it is a good picture of me. Mom isn’t like that. She has always looked past herself and seen the people next to her.

Mom’s most memorable moments were never ones that focused on her “where” or the “what” she was doing. “When” didn’t seem to matter much either. The only thing of significance was who she shared time with.

Most of what I learned about how to love well came from my mom. She was content to spend time with me doing whatever I chose. I know the gifts God gave me because she patiently told me as many times as was necessary for the truth to sink in.

She taught me that happiness doesn’t come from success, or being in a certain place, or doing a certain thing. It doesn’t come from focusing on yourself.

Happiness comes from loving the people you share life with.

I want to live like that.

Mom has always loved God passionately. She made a journal entry the day she was diagnosed with early onset dementia. Her note reflected a sadness, but no anger.  Even in a moment of personal defeat, she wasn’t focused on herself, but on who else was in the picture.

“I know God will control my time…I pray for God’s guidance moving forward.”

Thanks, Mom, for reminding me who to look at in my pictures. And in my life.

If you have been in a picture with Jan McAfee, take a moment to go find it. Remember her in that happy time, and enjoy the warm feeling you get.

Then go give that feeling to someone else.

If you want to read one of my favorite posts, it is something I gave her for Mother’s Day a couple of years ago. Click here to read “The Wish”.