November 18th

I think a lot about my mother at this time of year.  Her birthday is November 18th, followed closely by Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, when Mom was always a presence:  decorating the house with garland and ribbons and ornaments from her childhood, arranging a large collection of vintage Santa Claus figures in a cabinet with strategically-placed twigs of holly, ice skating at the Coliseum, baking apple pies and dozens and dozens of Christmas cookies and candies, managing all of the meal prep and cleaning and out-of-town guests--her mother when we were young, and then my siblings and me returning to the nest after we were grown and gone--stubbornly making the oyster stew of her childhood every Christmas Eve even though none of the rest of us would eat it and she eventually developed an allergy to oysters herself. 

Physically, she is still with us.  Her memory, capabilities, and, indeed, her entire personality have been lost to Alzheimers.  She seems content enough in her current situation with my dad and her caregivers always with her--and for that I am truly grateful--but she is just a shadow of the person she was.  

Coincidentally, on November 18th, her birthday, the Course des Lumieres was run in Paris.  It is a charity walk/run after sunset along the Seine to raise money for research into various diseases, Alzheimers included.  I registered Glenn and myself to participate.  I imagined thousands of participants lining the banks of the Seine at night, the November air crisp and lights sparkling.  

When the day arrived, it was gray and gloomy, alternating between drizzle and downpours all day.  I was not feeling my best, having come down with something the day before.  Spending hours outdoors traveling to the start, lining up, walking the course, and traveling back did not seem at all appealing, but I was committed to complete it.  So Glenn and I headed over. 

The weather broke just as we were starting the course, more raw than crisp still, but no rain.  The conditions may have dampened spirits a bit, but we were accompanied by thousands of runners and walkers, many carrying LED torches, some with Christmas lights strung around their heads, all happy to be there doing a small part to further medical research.  

The course started near the Eiffel Tower, and we got a stunning night-time close-up of it.  

Here are some of the participants walking down to a quai along the Seine.

I was glad we made the effort and followed through, despite how I was feeling and the less-than-ideal weather.  Sometimes, even when you know you can't really do anything, it feels good to do something.