My dying mother

My mother is extremely sick and has been so for over a year now. It started right before we left for North Carolina and when we left we knew that it might be the last time we saw here. But luckily she has survived longer than the doctors anticipated and since we came back I visit on a weekly basis.

The funny thing is that I would like to go more, but there isn't much to talk about and she doesn't want me to do anything when I am there, although I do offer. Perhaps I should go and just watch the TV Food network with her. Watching television was one of the only things we did together. Okay I am wrong, we did do a lot of shopping. In the summer when I was home from school, I was lucky enough to go out with her on her weekly errands. My mother was (and still is)a thrifty shoppper. As a family of 7 on one income, she had to be. She would check all of the grocery stores in the area for their loss leader sales and stock up. She also stopped in weekly to Bradlees and Caldors and other medium box chain stores for good deals on things like clothing and housewares. I would usually tag along, annoying her in some way or another. Be it going to the bathroom at every store we stopped at or accidentally spraying myself in the eye with perfume. Sometimes I would even con her into buying me something. I think she would buy it just to shut me up from all my whining. I owe all my good shopping skills to her.

I can't take her shopping since she has so much trouble moving around at all. She hasn't left the house in months. While her body is now emaciated and hunched, and she looks to have aged 15 years, she still doesn't really talk much. I am sure that she is in tons of pain. She has pain medication patches on her body and she takes the occasional pill if she feels she needs to. She feels free to answer all questions about her condition, rather matter-of-factly. It is something she has come to accept. My father is with her and takes care of her every need which means helping her do everything from getting out of bed, to dressing, to eating, to going to the bathroom etc..He is such a good man and it is beautiful to see him joyfully and lovingly take care of her.

I miss her. I miss her bustling around the kitchen so eager to take care of everyone. I miss seeing her do her search a word puzzles with her reading glasses at the end of her nose while she sits in her rocking chair. I miss her wise crack corny jokes. I remember her telling me of a time when her and my father we first married. She loved jokes, so she slyly filled the insides of my fathers shoes with shaving cream. She said "You should have seen his face when he put them on!". And Jesse thinks that I am trouble? I miss her baking. She baked some delicious treat at least once a week for as long as I can remember. Cookies, bars, cakes, any good recipe she found in her magazines was tried. Now I am passing on the tradition to my kids. Just this week, Huckleberry, Fiona and I made huge cookies that we decorated with frosting and leftover Halloween candy. Thanks mom.