Mama

As I have navigated these last few years, I have often become overwhelmed with emotion. Watching these people who have always been so vibrant, athletic and competent struggle as their bodies change on them … is heartbreaking. Loving someone so much can be so painful. There are also incredibly tender moments – like watching my father kiss his partner of 60+ years good-bye as she is wheeled into major surgery.  I cried tears of sadness at what he must be feeling, but also tears of joy at their incredible love story.

In this blog, I want to share the humor and the love, but also the struggles and reality. I want my parents to have a voice in describing their experiences. I share here a conversation between my mom and me.

Mama, how do you feel – both mentally and physically?

Everything hurts. Fortunately, not at the same time. My back and my eye are the major issues. Sometimes I think my right side is corrupted; back pain, neuropathy in my right leg, right shoulder, arm, and hand, and my right eye. This morning my back is beginning to let me know it is chair and heating pad time. It should be exercise time. I convince myself that bed making and household chores will suffice.

Mentally, I am losing confidence. I can remember back seventy years, but I cannot find my phone or my glasses. I have aphasia in that I can not come up with the word I want at times. You bought me that wonderful puzzle board. I looked at all the pieces and nearly fainted. I sometimes say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I have lost confidence and social judgment.

Are you afraid?

Yes, but not of leaving this world. My greatest fear is being separated from papa and you. I would be terrified, which is unfair because of the burden it puts on you both.  I was 50+ before I spent a night alone. My parents never left me, I had papa, and I had you kids (often in my bed). This biggest fear often causes panic attacks; small, and I have learned to control them. I fear mean or critical people when directed at me. I would simply kill them if directed at my family. [There is no doubt in my mind that this is true.] Papa and you tell me to consider the source, and I try. It still makes me fearful and to doubt myself.  I am too old to feel this way, and I am working on it. I worry about your happiness, baby girl; not so much anymore. I want you to be strong and loved and happy when your biggest fans (papa and I) are not here. I worry about Gery and Deb and the kids. I worry that I was not sensitive enough to what our mothers were experiencing. I look to reassurance from your father. I suffer from Irish guilt. I worry about Cory and Dillon, Jazz, Baron; not so much Sissy [our pets].  Now I worry about Bruce as a loved one. I am afraid of snakes and am ever vigilant. I guess that is it for my fears. I have many blessings. I am grateful. I thank God for our life.

What makes you happy mama?

Sitting in our chairs, side by side, with Cory between us in her bed. I love being in our apartment home, and talking to papa. After all these years, we never lack for topics. The quiet visits from you and Dillon bring me joy.  Our Thursday dinners, with you and Brucie, good food and conversation, are most enjoyable. I depend on phone calls and online messages from you and Bruce.  I enjoy calls from Gery and Samantha, and I love talking politics with Deb and my like minded friends; some go back to high school. I love our patio and Cory’s yard; our new colorful French pots and flowers (a gift from our children). 

What is the nicest thing you can do for me?

Love me.

Oh, I so do.