“Oh my neck hurts, oh my stomach hurts.” My mother complains, she is not weeping yet there is pain in her voice, in her cry for help. With each cry I try to offer some words that will comfort her. That it seems is all I can do for her.
“Where does it hurt mom? Do you need anything? Can I get you anything?”
“No.” she replies.
Myself and my two adult children share a house. The arrangement has worked out really well. The cost of living has gone up so much that having being able to share rent is a God send. After my husband died it felt good to be in the place where we had lived.
This time it is the younger of the toppings the son! He is calling to ask if he can stay at his friend’s house for the night. No problem I answer him, I know the friend and I also know he is not far from us if there is a problem. I am half a sleep and hear him say “thanks mom” and click he is gone
Paul is older now. He’s sixty years old and lives on his own. He’s mentally challenged, or intellectually handicapped, and he’s a real character.
Thank you cards are a great way to foster connection. They are so much more than just a simple “thanks.” You can use them as a way to reconnect with someone, start a conversation, or truly let that person know what they mean to you.
That day, the bank was having a bake sale as a fundraiser for a local charity. Mom, of course, wanted to look at the baking after she finished her banking. So when she finished up with the teller, we wandered over to the baking table where we ran into Mary, one of Mom’s past employees.
The kitchen was small and yet Mom had the magic touch in that tiny space. She could produce the most amazing things with flour, butter and sugar. And there were always pans of her nuts and bolts and cheese straws. All sorts of her fruit pies – apple, strawberry and blueberry – were frozen in her giant freezer in the garage.
So, I’ll be selling my firstborn in order to pay for my crown, and I don’t even get to show it off unless I walk around pointing it out to everyone. I don’t think, in general, people would go for that. Mouths are meant to be kept closed, or at least partially closed, at all times.
Do we ever really know our parents? They become our caregivers and they offer us love and support, but do we ever truly know them as people?
Life is so sweet. There is so much to do and, it seems, so little time. As I age, time slips by so quickly; it’s almost frightening. Will I ever get to do the things I want to do before I die? Will I see my grandchildren and watch them grow?
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