Dealing with what is
happening to my mother has taken on an unreal quality. i go to visit her, but
i come away feeling like i have spent an hour with a stranger. She is now lost to me
in the sea of medications they have given
her to keep her body functioning, and to mask the pain of the illness. Yet i babble
away, hoping the chatter will penetrate her fog and she will remember.
She does respond occasionally.. but where once i would have received a strong, and often
unwanted, opinion, now i am given a weak nod of agreement and the inside me that is her
daughter, feels let down. Now i find myself wishing i could even just once more, be given
one of her harsh judgements. Anything would be better than what she is capable of now.
This is not my mother. No matter the angst that was often between us.
At least then i still knew she was strong and vital. i am fighting the guilty memory
of how many times i wished she would just go away and leave me alone. Now she is,
and my heart is breaking.
Master came along with me last week, to meet
and visit with her. i am very glad He did, as He pointed out something that i am
realizing is important. My mother's companion, whom she is living with at the
moment, is not someone i have ever really cared for. i suppose a lot of the reasons
were unfair; one being that anyone trying to replace my father didn't really stand a
chance with me. i look back now and realize he wasn't trying to do that at
all, but the past years cannot be undone. i can only try to keep my mind more open
now. But what Master noticed was that this man makes my mother smile. i hadn't
thought about that before.
The last visit, and again the one tonight,
i watched more closely to the interaction between my mother and this man.
What i saw was a woman obviously floating along in her drug-filled world, eyes not
well-focused, yet revealing her struggle to remain coherent. Yet often, when her
companion spoke, her head would turn toward his voice. She would become very still
as her eyes found his face, and then she smiled. A slow smile, lips barely
lifting. A pure smile, one of pleasure. And i had trouble containing my tears.
This man is her hero. And i don't ever remember a time when i saw such a look
from her when she gazed at my father.
Earlier i sent a message to Master, as we discussed the end that is inevitable. And my comment was thus:
she has been the single most influential person in my life.. not necessarily a positive thing.. but a fact nonetheless.. that i am finally realizing as she drifts away
... and i know i don't have closure, which scares me. i took my children along with me tonight, with the idea that maybe it would help them. my daughter cried; my son hid behind friendly teasing. i think they were relieved to when it was time to leave. But somehow, no matter how bizarre the moments spent seem to them now, i think they will be glad that they did take the time to go.
How does one find closure?
