I took such joy in reading Denise Gaineys posts about her mother each day. I was living a little vicariously through her relationship with her spunky mom. The loss Denise suffered this past week has affected many of us in the Creative Group because I think we, each in our own way, adopted Dorothy as a mother symbol. This is my story. My mother is gone. Still living, but gone just the same. It is a hard truth. Dementia has been stealing her mind for several years. She is mentally reduced, diminished , almost child like. Her each word a struggle, some gone forever. Thoughts are clipped and repeated almost instantly. Our communication is short, kept to the how are you with an i love you to end. Living 2500 miles away , I am not there for the day to day. I fly in for short visits and fly out again. My sister, living in the same town, visits more often. The decline is hard to watch. I think it is more pronounced for me with the longer time between visits. She cries now when she sees me even though I might have told her 10 minutes before that I was coming. Still, I dread the time when she does not cry, when she does not know me at all. We took the phone out of her room because it confused her, she could no longer remember how to answer or hang it up. My daily calls have stopped. I only speak to her when my sister visits. This has been hard for me but made a little easier with the knowledge that she doesnt remember we dont speak each day. Really though, nothing about this is easy. I have a jumble of emotions. I miss the daily conversations and the laughter we had. On a deeper level I feel regret, worrying that I missed chances to say the things I needed to say , things she may have wanted or needed to hear. At 94, her body is slowing down but the essence of who she is will be long gone before her physical body is. So I mourn a little bit each day in this long goodbye. I wonder what will be left to feel when her physical body finally gives out? I know regret is a wasted emotion and hindsight changes nothing. I can only take the lessons learned from hard truths and do better in other situations. For now, I will cherish what is left for whatever time is left. I will be grateful for the short conversations and visits. I will be grateful for the sound of my mothers voice. And I will remember the good things.
Posted on: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 21:57:48 +0000
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