My Mom is Gone

MY MOTHER IS GONE AND I MISS HER

My mother died about five or six years ago. But, though it is weaker and occasionally skips a beat, her heart continues to beat in her chest. Her brain, though the conscious area that deals with rational thought does not work efficiently, continues to operate the automatic functions of her body. Her eyes and ears, though weaker, continues to provide sight and hearing and her legs, weak though they may be, can move her about slowly. And her arms can still wrap around and hug and she can even say, “I love you” if prompted.

But, a while back, I came to see her as usual and upon entering the room said, “Hi, Mom, how are you doing?”

She responded as she always has, “Oh, I’m fine.”

“Mom, do you know who I am?” I asked as usual.

And she had an expression of intense scrutiny as she looked at me in an effort to decide who I was.

After some study, she replied, “I have to say I don’t know.”

When I told her my name, she said, “Oh yes, I know you and I won’t forget you again.”

I knew she would forget again and it was then I realized that my mother had died. Oh, her body was still there and she has times when she seems to know who I am, especially if I tell her. But my mother is not there, only the shell that housed her for 86 years. For you see, I cannot sit down with her and tell her what’s going on in my life and hear her say, “Oh, don’t worry, things will work out and be fine.”

She can no longer tell me what’s going on in the community nor can she tell me what life was like when she was a little girl. She does not know her age or that the house in which she lives with my dad is her home. She cannot share moments of excitement and achievement of my children or her other grandchildren. And today is her birthday, but she does not comprehend that I love her and wish her a happy birthday. You see, my mother and who she was, died five or six years ago and I miss her very much.

But, also, I regret that my father no longer has the woman he married and promised to love, honor, and cherish because she does not know that he is her husband. I am sure he and she dreamed of growing old together and sharing their experiences from the porch swing or rocker in their golden years. But, he cannot enjoy these senior years because he has to care for her and see that she gets her medicine and other needs provided. Her golden years have turned to tin.

What a terrible thing, this disease that slowly turn out the lights of her mind so that one day my mother does not know who I am or that I still love her. One day her body will join her mind and we will have a memorial service and eulogize her life. Then we can remember her life and what she has meant to each of us. Until that day, we are too busy trying to do what we can to care for her bodily needs to really enjoy who she is and what she has done.

My Mom died several years ago and I miss her