Mom

I'm astonished to find that it's actually more painful to see mom less often, than it is to see her more frequently.  Since my sister has graciously given me the summer off from mom's care needs, phone calls when she falls, and other related needs, I've gone to see her less--maybe every 7- 10 days or so.  Effectively, feelings wise, I am right where my sister said she used to be.  When I ran by today, mom was getting drowsy after lunch, and when she tried to tell me what she was watching on TV, she could not find the words, and it was just like a knife in my heart.  I've known this for awhile--this is not new news--but to see it for exactly what it is just hurts in a way I have no words with which to explain.  She can listen and usually understand or play along like she does--but not to be able to tell me something, ate... my...SB diet... lunch.  I didn't cry as I left, but I just felt this enormous hole open up and suck me in.

So, I did what I always do, which is call my sister to report in, and compare notes.  Somehow even though that doesn't change anything, it just makes it easier.  A shared burden is a lighter burden, I guess.  My sister said that swapping places with me has been a real gift to her, to have the opportunity to be responsible for and provide for mom, in a way she never has before.  It was as if we were speaking shorthand to each other--we both understood perfectly what the other was trying to say.  So, maybe that's what this whole thing  with mom is about--getting a chance to give back to her and enjoy the gifts of caring for someone you love, who can no longer take care of herself.  It sounds like such a "no duh", but it's a whole lot deeper than that.  And it ain't for sissies either.  It hurts.