a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.
My dad was always anxious. Even with therapy and medications, anxiety plagued him.
I’ve said it before. Alzheimer’s has taken so much of who he was. His memories. His intellect.
But it’s also taken his anxiety.
He lives in the moment with no care of the future. He does not worry about the progression of this disease. He does not concern himself with the financial aspects of long term care. He eats what is placed before him with no thought of how it got there or of when the next meal is coming.
He is in the present. If a Broadway show tune plays, he sings along uninhibited by those who may hear. If he is happy to see me, he smiles with genuine sincerity. If he’s moved by music or emotion, he unabashedly cries.
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
My dad has lost his independence. His mind is being ravaged by Alzheimer’s disease.
Even in the challenge, there are gifts. He has lost his anxiety. He lives moment to moment. In that, there is peace for my dad…and for me.