Ma Mere

I have made it safely back from the land of Civil War re-enactments and have a little to report. I was able to see my Mom and got to shuffle her around to doctors appointments and to pick up her myriad of medications. It was hard, hands down. If you've ever met my Mom (and I think, of you readers, only Jessica M has), you would know how vibrant, spunky , and full of life she's been. This is a woman who went dancing with me at the Menagerie on 80's night (and befriended a drag queen named Mario, who still, up to the time I left the 'Cide, would still ask me how she's doing), would play practical jokes and pranks on me all through my growing years, and cooked glorious feasts. She was feisty, and although we've had a tumultuous and very complicated relationship, I always admired the sheer amount of force and energy she could bring to a room and the attention she could command. The hardest part of being in Arkansas this time was to see this larger-than-life personality reduced down to a shuffling invalid. She moves now at the pace of a 90-year-old, and it is heart breaking. I think she's lost a lot of her will to live, and this is devastating because, as her kid, I think I want to see her as super woman--and perhaps this is how we all see our parents: invincible. So, now I worry: I worry she has lost her will, and I worry she has too many regrets, and I worry that she won't be able to have the quality of life she wants now that she is so disabled. And, of course, I worry that I will lose her very soon.

I didn't realize how hard it was while I was there: I spent time talking to her and taking her to her appointments and running her errands and cooking her heart-healthy meals. I chatted with my cousin and Aunt and shared political jokes and debated with my Uncle. In the process, I think it helped me avoid the inevitable conclusions that I was drawing as I had to coax her out of bed and into the shower, to eat, and to take short walks to the back porch. Then, on the plane ride home, the force of the visit hit me and I quite pathetically lost it a little on the plane.

I don't know if our complicated past makes this process harder, or if it is just hard because, well, it just is. Despite it all, I want good things for her and want her to be well.