Mother

I read my sister’s blog this afternoon and begin to acknowledge our Mother’s dementia. Last time I was with her my husband was with me as well as my best friend Linda May and her husband.

It was a Sunday and Roy decided they would skip church today. Instead we all went out for lunch at a local Restaurant in Bayfield and then we went to Grandbend to play mini golf. It was a great day together, something totally different for Mom. She seemed to have clarity of thought that day. We didn’t ask anything of her, we were all just being together.

I’ve know other people of an old age who had dementia but it is different when it is mother. I feel like I have been out of my family’s life for the last ten years. With a once a year visit it is not possible keep in touch with everyone of them. I wonder how in touch I was with mother when I did live near enough to drive over. I can remember her driving to Dundas when I first moved there. In fact she loaned me $2000.00 to help me leave the farm, sixteen years ago. I repaid the debt within a year. I recall meeting her at the elevator of the sixth floor and seeing her for the first time with her white hair. I guess that was my first acknowledgement that ‘mother was aging’.

I remember a few years earlier, sitting in a car, just Mom and I. I shared with her the miserable man she had for a husband and gave her details of father’s abuse. I had been in a counseling group for abuse survivors. I don’t know what I thought would happen. I don’t know if I thought she would kick her husband out. I don’t even know why I told her. “That’s just terrible.” She said. We didn’t talk about it again. She didn’t ask, “Did this happen to any of your sisters.” She just carried on with her life as she had before.

During a time that I lived on the farm with my Ex., and when I had graduated college at 41, she came to visit. She gave me £50.00 and we went shopping and bought a new outfit for work. It was blue culottes with a white blouse.

I am glad that I always listen to mom when ever she telephones. The past few years it’s been the same. She talks and I listen. It was like she just needs to know I am still here and even if she will never get here to see me, she knows I always listen. She doesn’t ask anything about me. She always says, “Say hello to Alex.”
Then she ends by saying, “Well I don’t know what else I can tell you – that’s about all my news for now.” I say, “Love you mom” She replies, “Love you to.”

That’s all that matters. I don’t think a mother ever forgets how to love, whether she has dementia or clarity of thought.

I’ve got lots more to write about mother but this is enough for now.