Where the Light Gets In

Ring the bells that still can ring.

Forget your perfect offering.

There is a crack in everything.  

That's how the light gets in.

- Leonard Cohen (Anthem)

Several months ago, my sister bought me a copy of Kimberly Williams-Paisley's book, "Where the Light Gets In:  Losing My Mother Only to Find Her Again."  The book, a memoir, details Kimberly's struggle to find peace and acceptance as she and her family adjust to the fact that her mom has primary progressive aphasia (PPA).  Very similar to Alzheimer's disease, it robbed her mother of her ability to speak, communicate and ultimately took her life.  Jude read the book later and had suggested I read it, too.  I finally did, finishing it a couple of nights ago.

For a long time, I simply wasn't ready to read the book.  I was afraid it would hit too close to home, which of course it did.  It was wonderfully written and a poignant account of what Kimberly's family went through as they watched her mother ravaged by PPA.  At times, I felt like Kimberly was describing my life, my children, my family and my mother.  It broke my heart.  It was as if she had written my story and my family's story.  And I was thankful for that.  

I found myself wanting to e-mail her, to get a cup of coffee with her, to sit down with her so she could listen to me tell my story, which is really my mom's story.  

Why?  Because it's clear, after reading the book, that she would understand exactly how I feel.

Why?  Because her mom was so interesting, funny, vibrant and full of life.  And so was my mom. 

Why?  Because she could tell me how she found a sense of perspective about her mother's illness and all the future memories that she, her children - 2 boys, just like mine - and yes, her mom, were destined never to have of times spent together that were never to be. 

Why?  Because she could tell me how to find the places where the light gets in, so I can learn to accept and love my mom unconditionally for who she is now, not who she was and who she will never get to be.  She could tell me how to live in the moment more, appreciate the now more, and regret less. 

Why?  Because she has walked this walk I am on and she could tell me that things will be okay.  Someday, things will be okay.

Strange and irrational, I know, but these are strange times for me in so many ways.  My mom is gone and yet she is still here, at least for a while longer.  Also here is the helpless feeling that I'm losing a bit more of her every day and there is nothing I can do about it.  That's one of the hardest parts, for sure.

Kimberly Williams-Paisley wrote a beautiful book.  I'm glad I read it.  There's comfort, I think, in knowing there are other people and families, like me and mine, who understand.

Kimberly Williams-Paisley's mom, Linda Williams, died on November 16, 2016.