A Balancing Act

We were eating in a seaside restaurant when Mom said she needed to use the facilities.

“I’ll take her,” I said to Daddy. Mom’s Alzheimer’s meant that we couldn’t leave her alone. While she was still independent enough to care for her personal needs, she’d probably get lost finding the bathroom.

As I was waiting outside for her, Daddy stepped up to the men’s room. “I’ll bring her back,” he said. “Go sit down and wait for us.”

I headed back to our table and took out my phone. It had been a while since I’d had a chance to check my messages. I was so focused on my screen that I didn’t notice anything amiss. A few minutes later, Daddy came out and found Mom pacing the restaurant in utter fear. She hadn’t waited for him and she’d become lost.

“How dare you move away when I’m looking for you!” she yelled when she saw me.

It took a while to calm her and apologize for my lack of attention. It didn’t matter that I was at the same table as before; she hadn’t been able to find me. For those few minutes, I’d failed her.

By the time Mom lay down for her nap later, she had forgiven—and forgotten—but I hadn’t. I needed God’s help to forgive myself.