Connection Happens At The Pain Point
Calm. Connected. Grounded. Grateful.
Those are the four words that came to me at the end of my 10-minute meditation. And those are the four words that started my 10-minute morning writing. They feel present and peacefully powerful to me today.
Last night I joined about 150 other Virginians at a fundraiser event in Richmond. It was hosted by a gorgeous young woman named Kelsey Lane in honor of her beautiful mama living with Early Onset Alzheimer’s. (Kelsey is on the left and her glowing mother is in between us above.) The event was thrown at Studio Two Three, the nonprofit arts organization where I serve as Board Chair. Our Events Manager, Mary, connected me with Kelsey who was throwing her first-ever art auction to help raise money for the Alzheimer’s Association.
Knowing I’d lost my mother to Alz, Mary thought I might be interested in connecting with Kelsey and learning more about her event. We met several months ago at the studio, as she was beginning to pull donated art, auctioneers, food, drink and such together. She’d never met anyone “young” who’d walked her same road.
Limited, deep connection with others is one of the isolating parts of Alzheimer’s, and it’s amplified when the victim living with it doesn’t “look” old enough to possibly be dealing with the common symptoms of dementia. Looking at this gorgeous woman above, it’s almost impossible to even connect dots with the description of dementia you may have in your head of old people forgetting things. But this gray matter that kills people’s brains isn’t age discriminatory, and Kelsey and I both know that firsthand.
Kelsey is inspiring. Being able to look this experience in the face and say, “F-You. I’m going to do something.” And not just the typical “Alz Walk,” but something a little scary and new - meaningful. An artist herself, Kelsey tapped the thing she is passionate about to bring people together, celebrate her family, and ultimately raise money to donate to an organization that supports those living with the disease, their caregivers and the research needed to make it all go away.
When you are faced with a loved one living with a disease that has never had a survivor, the heaviness and heartbreak can be undoing. I was definitely in the “undid” camp when it came to watching my mom live and die at the hands of this horrid disease in the early 2000’s. There are so many things I would have done differently looking back now, but also so many parts of that period of my life that stemmed from things I didn’t understand at the time.
In some ways talking about losing a mother to Alzheimer’s at the age of 33 is the clear and comfortable part of my story. The aftermath and undoing that was unleashed once she’d passed on was a whole other chapter of pain, suffering and thank God, ultimately growth and healing. I miss my mom every day and wish she could know me and her four grandkids now, but at the very same second I type this - I know she does.
I’ve found there is complex process of rebuilding a relationship with someone who is no longer in their physical state, if you are looking for one. I feel my mother part of me everyday. Not in a creepy way, but in a way that simultaneously amplifies and squelches loneliness with the feeling of unending love.
I was thankful to be joined at this Alz event by two lovely ladies I have met who have also walked the road of losing a mother to Early Onset Alzheimer’s. Hillary, a gorgeous mother of two, found this blog last March after losing her mother the month before in February of 2018. Our lives were oddly parallel in that she was 33 and her mother was 63, like me and my mom at the time of her passing. She’d stumbled upon this site through a windy path via LinkedIn. Wala, a breakfast date at CanCan and an immediate, real connection through pain, that has blossomed and bettered us both.
The other friend is also a young, kickass mom who lost her mother two years ago to Early Onset. Laura was introduced to me through a client, and it only took one quick date for tea at Quirk to know I had another new friend who got it. Laura’s experience of losing her mother to Early Onset has led her to lobbying at the General Assembly on behalf of retirement and medical home legislation and being on the board of the Alzheimer’s Association.
Of course Richmond is magical, so Laura and Hillary knew one another through various ways, but this was the first evening the three of us were able to go and hang out — PLUS support someone dealing with this journey in real-time. I’m sure it was a smidge jarring, but as we’d talk to people throughout the night and they’d ask how we know one another, I’d say, “Our dead mothers connected us. They all had Early Onset Alzheimer’s.”
Connection Happens At The Pain Point, but it doesn’t have to stay painful. The meaningful connection can become empowering, beautiful and grow into a gorgeous flowering friendship.
Thank you to all the mamas out there raising kickass women who have the guts to share the hard, true life stuff and find the power in being real and alive to wake up every morning, get dressed and go thrive in this complex world.
Lotsa Love,
Leah
