I Love My Mother

And since she had her stroke, she hasn't been the same. She used to be hale and hearty, aggressively attacking every opportunity that came her way. Now she is tentative and asks for permission because she is afraid she will make a mistake. It's breaking my heart to see her this way. It may sound strange but I'm missing her before she leaves.

It's hard not to do everything for her, to let her be as independent as possible while still keeping her safe. It freaks me out that one moment in time, just a few heartbeats, and the person you've known all your life, is changed forever. When I first started living with my mom, I accepted this as one of the statistical realities of my future. It's a whole lot different living it, the stress is phenomenal.

Today she left me a message on my cell, telling me that we needed water and milk, I couldn't understand her. This is frustrating for both her and me, but lately I've discovered reserves of patience that I didn't know I had. If you knew her previous to the stroke you might think that she is developmentally impaired or if you suffer from ageism, that she is senile. She isn't senile, she's just a little slower than she used to be.

My brothers came to visit her yesterday and one of them just couldn't resist pointing out to her that statistically she is likely to die, and soon. She tires easily, doesn't eat as much as she used to, but still catches sarcasm and innuendo.

Go figure.