I raised 4 children.
I am enjoying my 9 grandchildren more than I can even express in words.
I helped care for my vivacious mother-in-law as her health rapidly declined this summer. I was with her when she passed away.
I am the primary caretaker of my own Mom. My Mom. A beautiful woman who discovered exercise decades ago… before anyone took it seriously. A woman who, I think, invented the concept of recycling… yes, she made us wash and re-wash and re-use plastic bags when I was very, very young. My Mom. A woman who, at 83 1/2, is riddled with arthritis, but still hops on the senior citizen bus and heads to her exercise classes each morning at the senior center. My Mom. A woman who has never, ever had a bad hair day. My Mom… who thinks her great-grandchildren are the only children…
My Mom and Dad in 1958. Isn’t she beautiful?
I love my Mom so very much. She lives independently in a senior complex about 10 minutes from me. I made the difficult decision to take her car away about a year ago… so I drive her to all of her appointments. Yesterday, I took her to her dentist and noticed that she was a little tired… but she promised me that she would take her daily walk around her building, eat a nice dinner (that I had prepared) and drink lots of water. Well, when I called at 7:00pm to check on her, her phone rang that frightening busy, busy, busy. The kind where you know the phone is off the hook. I emailed her to let her know to hang up her phone (yes, she knows how to email!). No response. I did not panic at first, but by 8:15 my husband and I were rushing to her apartment. We rang her bell. Many times. No answer. But, I thought… she might not have her hearing aids in.
We entered the building and my heart was racing as we headed up the elevator to the 4th floor. I unlocked the door, almost not breathing. “Mom. Mom,” I whispered. No answer. I raced around the corner to her living area. There she was. Reading the newspaper. As calm as a cucumber. She was rather shocked to see me and Barry. She actually jumped. We told her about the phone, the email, the doorbell…
She didn’t have her hearing aids in. And her phone was off the hook.
My heart soared that my Mom was OK. We stayed for awhile and she was so appreciative that we care so very much.
Today, my heart aches for my Mom. She is a tiny, tiny little woman with a giant spirit… a woman who has taken such wonderful care of me.
It’s funny how life works in cycles, isn’t it?