Being Grateful

Earlier in the summer our area was hit with a giant storm, leaving us and thousands of others home owners without power for days. To say the least, being without air conditioning during a very hot time of the year was not fun. About a month later our hot water heater went on the fritz, leaving us without hot water. The result was several days of quick but cold showers. that was not fun either. Electricity and hot water are two of the nicest niceties of life. Prior to this summer, I had taken them for granted because they were fixtures that seemed ever-present. But as a result of what happened, I no longer do that. Now every time I turn on a light switch or step into the shower under a stream of warm water, I whisper a quiet thanks. Shame on me for having to go without them before I started giving them the appreciation they deserve.

I mention these incidents as a lead-in to another "fixture" of life that I believe many of us take for granted: our ability to communicate. No, my ability to communicate verbally and in-writing has not disappeared. Thank goodness. But I live with someone who is rapidly losing theis ability to perform this most fundamental of skills. This person has Alzheimer's disease. Presently, she cannot write and has to struggle to put together even one complete sentence. Most tragically, she is still of sound-enough mind to know her communication skills are a shadow of what they used to be. Consequently, each day she feels an enormous amount of frustration and sadness at her current state.

The ability to sit down and write someone - anyone - an email, a posit-note or a letter is no small thing. At the same time, being able to physically connect with another person and exchange thoughts, information, and feelings adds a quality to our lives that, in my view, can only be matched by having air to breath. What would our lives be like without the ability to do either one of these things? For me, the word "unlivable" comes to mind. As I watch this person struggle every day to remain connected and engaged with the world around her, I find myself giving deeper thanks for still having the ability to do what she will soon no longer be able to do. It makes me want to better at it.