Truth

I have planted myself at Barnes and Noble, free wifi, expensive chai. I just dropped Mom off at the neuropsychologist for an evaluation. We were here two years ago only to find out she has Alzheimer's. Now, I'm trying to understand where we are at with it all two years later.

I hate these evaluations. I feel so protective of my mom! The doctor asks her simple questions that she can't answer correctly. It's all I can do not to say "Of course she knows her birth date!" Between having memory issues and feeling cornered, my mom doesn't have a chance! But I remain quiet until needed. The last thing I want to do is impede her evaluation - I need to know the truth.

Now truth, that's a funny business. I have always clung to truth, striving to be truthful, authentic, and honest. I love the truth. Until recently, when I found out that I really don't love the truth. The truth is messy. People aren't who you thought they were, situations don't pan out as promised, the future looks a bit more uncertain. Even though I hang out around truth as often as possible, life doesn't cooperate. But in reality, I've gotten just what I asked for! What I REALLY need is a way to handle the truth (flash to Jack Nicholson: "You can't handle the truth!"). Truth be told, I don't want to handle anything. Somewhere along the way, I became so enamored of Jesus, that I wanted to be like Him. "Transform me, Lord!" I thought transformation meant I become like Him, but really it means I become like Him. It's the becoming part that is so challenging, so painful. Mom is part of that transformation process and so is truth. The truth about Mom, the truth about everything.

Well, I better go. The truth awaits...