Monday, October 4, 2010

Tender love

Annie called this morning. Through static lines that were reminiscent of phone lines in the 40s or 50s when phone lines crossed and two conversations could be heard at once, we tried to talk about my writing and mom, and before we could get to their life and what was going on with them we had other people on the line, operator recordings, crackling lines, and finally we had to end the conversation.
It almost felt like we were being sabotaged.
But she told me that she and Stan had premonitions that mom wouldn't be here that much longer.  He had two premonitions and Annie had one. On the third day after their premonitions, they shared their thoughts with each other. I thought it was interesting...perhaps a forewarning to me, because I have stopped, or blocked, premonitions because I had them before and then nothing happened. Now that she is 101 I don't think about it as much...I just do my job of caregiving knowing it could go on for awhile longer. When I think about her dying, I cry, but I was informed by spirit once many years ago that I was to stop crying, that she wasn't gone yet.
Since then I have cried at the length of this journey. I have been impatient and harsh at times, angry at her for things that I didn't need to be angry about, but simply triggered by voice intonations or demands or needs.
I fear mom's death because I fear that I will not be at peace about it, but feel guilt instead. Because I have wanted her to die and know I will miss her. Because I have lost my patience with her even though she has reassured me that, yes, "you have lost your patience, but you have been very patient." Because I will miss her humor and her patting me on the leg and saying, "It will work out."
Although our journey together has been complicated by a host of life events that shaped our interactions, I love her deeply. A mother/daughter dance that didn't feel as much like dancing as fencing, but nonetheless filled with a tender love.

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