And She’s Not Even Gone
Reports of my Mother’s condition have been positive lately. Yes, she is frail and sleeps almost constantly. But her vitals have been good and she continues to take some nourishment. Some reports have her awake late at night watching TV in the lounge. Really, though, there is not much left of her but skin and bones.
That includes her cognitive mind. She continues to be kind and sweet to those she encounters in the memory care unit. She vaguely recognizes my sisters when they go to visit. She remembers some events from her past but can’t remember her family. Sometimes, she hears from her Mother. Her Mother tells her she is ready for Mom to come home.
For me, Mom has been gone for a while. I’ve made my peace with in-person goodbyes a few times now. I haven’t been to Atlanta for nearly a year to see her again. In some ways it is difficult to say goodbye to her again. She doesn’t know the difference if I’m not there.
I miss my Mom! I keep wanting to call her but she has no, nor can she use a phone. Not for anything special. Just to talk with her like I used to, chatting about what’s going on in our lives. I am happy to have Cathy to share my life. And I enjoy talking with my sisters and brother on a regular basis. Sharing our children’s and grandchildren’s lives is a blessing. But it’s just different. I feel for all of you who have lost your parents, whether in their due time or prematurely. It is difficult to accept the braking bond between child and mother.
I have experienced the gradual decline of someone dear to me. The eventuality and inevitability of death. It hurts to go through it again. Fortunately, Mom is not in serious pain. Her dementia often alleviates her stress over losing her mind. It didn’t for a while, but its progression anesthetizes her from most thought. She seems content to stare at the TV. She also watches the hustle and bustle of others like herself and the staff that guards and keeps them.
Mom is well on her way to the age of one hundred one years. None of us thought she’d live this long. There have been several episodes within the past year when we assumed it was the end. Now, finally, I am planning to return to Atlanta to see her. Not to take care of her estate, nor for a celebration of life. Just another visit at the end of which I will have to say goodbye again.
So I continue to miss my Mom. I believe I will miss her even during the visit. I know I will miss her when she is finally at rest. She is the last of the family’s age group. Too quickly it will be our turn. In some cases, it already is.