My 83-year-old mother, who took lessons years ago, chuckles: “She should do what I did—find the best-looking teacher she can!”
“Um, she’s only 13, so that’s not the best advice. What kind of grandmother are you?”
We share a laugh as she recounts her own experience of taking lessons to quit smoking while raising six kids as a stay-at-home mom. Alzheimer’s often causes individuals to hold onto deep memories while struggling with recent events, leading to her overlooking my daughter’s present situation. Although in the early stages of the disease, she sometimes drifts between different timelines when I call her at the assisted living facility.
My mother has always had a keen sense of humor, and since I became a stay-at-home dad who writes parenting humor, our relationship has flourished. Our phone calls frequently turn into a generational comedy show.
Out of curiosity, I decided to delve into a book my mother has always cherished: Erma Bombeck’s If Life is a Bowl of Cherries—What Am I Doing in the Pits? From the very first line, it was clear why she resonated with Bombeck, who writes, “I’ve always worried a lot and frankly I’m good at it.” She jokes, “I worry about scientists discovering someday that lettuce has been fattening all along,” but then gets to the heart of the matter: “But mostly, I worry about surviving…. That’s what this book is all about.”
Humor has been my mother’s lifeline through countless challenges: raising six children, going through a divorce after 28 years, losing her eyesight to macular degeneration, and now facing the onset of Alzheimer’s. By the time I finished the introduction, I was already choked up.
The book unfolds through various vignettes, some of which have lost their relevance since their release in 1971, yet many remain timeless. Bombeck humorously presents a family survival guide on topics such as “Replacing [a] Toilet Tissue Spindle” and “Closing a Door.” Classic lines like “There, but for the grace of a babysitter go I,” and “Some say giving children responsibility helps them grow; others say it just raises your insurance rates” resonate just as strongly today.
However, the tone shifts later in the book, particularly in a poignant section about her own mother, titled “When Did I Become the Mother and the Mother Become the Child?” She describes the gradual transition of responsibilities as mothers become more childlike as their children grow independent. The child “isn’t ready yet to carry the burden. But the course is set.”
In many ways, it felt as if my mother was communicating with me through Bombeck’s words, blending humor with pathos, the pits alongside the cherries. Alzheimer’s has undeniably begun to take its toll. Often, during our conversations, my mother simply states, “I have no words.” She describes a “numbness” overtaking her, admitting, “I can see what the disease is doing to me.” On my end of the line, I find myself at a loss for words for a different reason.
Alzheimer’s has also blurred the markers of time. My siblings and I wrestle with how to handle forgotten family birthdays. While we can remind her about her grandchildren’s birthdays, our own present a dilemma: Is it more respectful to remind her of our birthdays, or should we spare her the guilt of forgetting? I lean toward the latter, though neither option feels right.
Conversely, the disease can sometimes offer unexpected gifts. In her clearer moments, Mom has mentioned that her short-term memory loss allows her to worry less and laugh more. She talks about the “gift” of being “suspended in time” without the burden of remembering things. These moments of liberation—from time, worry, and memory constraints—are the cherries that remain in her life.
Bombeck’s timeless work teaches us that even in the later stages of life, the cherries are still present—we just need to dig deeper to find them. A wonderful way to access these fruits is by reading and sharing a beloved book with a loved one.
As I read the lighter passages of my mother’s favorite book to her over the phone, sometimes she recalls her initial feelings upon reading them, while at other times her evolving mind processes them as if they were new. Regardless, we share a delightful and intimate experience, a perfect fruit for both of us.
This article was originally published on HuffPost in May 2015.
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Summary
In navigating the challenges of Alzheimer’s with my mother, I found profound insights through Erma Bombeck’s humor. Her book, If Life is a Bowl of Cherries—What Am I Doing in the Pits?, resonates with themes of worry, survival, and the bittersweet nature of memory. Despite the difficulties brought on by the disease, moments of clarity and laughter remind us that joy can still be found. Sharing her favorite stories has strengthened our bond, allowing us to cherish the remaining cherries in our lives.