My Mom

Its not Mother's Day, I'm aware of that.  I just feel like writing a post about my Mom today; not sure why, but here goes anyway.

My Mom is 85, she was 43 when I was born.  She gave birth to six babies, raised four to adulthood, lost one to cancer in 1993, and has one daughter (me) and two sons, 19 grandchildren, and I've lost count of how many great-grandchildren.

She was married to the same man for 49 years, until he passed away ten years ago as a result of a car accident.  She's never been quite the same since the day of the accident.  Her hearing and her mental clarity seemed to begin a gradual decline since that time.

It was almost nine years ago that I noticed the first sign of the declining function when she asked questions that she should know the answer to.  For example, she asked me for directions on how to get home from a location that she had driven home from at least a thousand times (okay, I exagerrate).  

These little clues became more and more frequent, but I and my brothers and their wives just passed it off as old age.  When I became concerned that it had progressed beyond normal aging, my brothers hinted that I would fare no better when I became a senior citizen.  

Along with her mental clarity, her hearing has also gradually declined since the accident to the point where it is an exercise in frustration or humor, depending on how you look at it, to have a conversation with her.

Some of the misunderstandings have been just downright hilarious!  One day when I was helping her go through some of her belongings, I saw piles of magazines under a little bookshelf and said "Oh, there's more under there."  She immediately perked up and said, "Where's Marj?"  (Marj is my late sister). When I could manage a straight face, I repeated myself, "There's more under there."  Indignantly she pointed at them, and said "I am not hiding them!"

When she asked why I was laughing, I made an attempt at explaining what had just transpired in our conversation. Minimal success.  

Cautious and guilt-ridden people remind me that some day I'll be old, too, and my own children will laugh at me. That's funny, because they already laugh at me every chance they have!