Tangled Emotions

I just got back seeing my mother in Florida.  I am always amazed at the tangle of emotions I experience during these visits.

My first is that of having to face the reality of my mother's age, 81.  The mother I carry in my mind is at least ten to fifteen years younger.  When I first see her, I experience shock.  She looks fragile and feeble.  As we visit and time passes, my mind vision and real vision adjust.  She looks good for her age and her condition.  I move from sadness to gratitude, gratitude that she's still with us, still living independently, still as stubborn as the day is long.  Fragile and feeble?  Things aren't always as they first appear.

My second emotional tangle came during a visit to the grocery store.  Mom likes to push the cart.  I think because it gives her a bit of extra support.  As we walk along, I think I'm leading, taking care of her as we shop but my mind is assaulted by images of myself as a child, trailing along behind Mom as she chooses her groceries.  Here we are, her 81 and me 61 and the feeling of being a child was as real as if it were 1955.  It brought a smile to my face.  Time passes but she will always be the mother and I, the child.

We almost always play cards (pinochle and rummy this time), when I visit.  Mom is competitive and a pretty sharp card player.  At least, she was.  As we played, I noticed how frequently she forgot whose play it was.  In rummy, she discarded cards that could have been played either on me or her, and her responses weren't as quick as they once were.  But I also noticed that there were instances when she used her... shall I say, age-related handicaps ... to her advantage.  Sometimes she wouldn't discard.  Sometimes she would lay cards down out of turn.  Sometimes she wouldn't take a card.  In pinochle, sometimes she would trump with a suit not trump.  Now, you could think these were accidental but there was strategy behind these moves on her part.  It was a mixed bag of tricks she played.  Some deliberate; some not.  All inducing both sadness and gladness on my part.  Wily old thing, she held her own, winning her share.

Working on the family tree and organizing all the pictures we have accumulated over the years is a task.  I've gladly taken it on but I needed Mom's assistance.  So we sat together trying to determine about when and where pictures were taken and who was in them.  I also had a list of questions I hoped she'd answer.  Questions like, "What is your earliest memory?  What have you learned from your life?  How would you like to be remembered?  What was the hardest thing about raising me?  my sisters?"  I learned some things about my mother through this experience.  She shared memories not shared before.  It was a warm, close time.  I was sad to know it took me so long to ask these questions but glad to know there was still time.

When I left Mom, I left her with a few things to consider, things not easy to talk about but necessary.  I asked her to consider under what circumstances she would need to down size, move from her three bedroom home to a smaller home or apartment.  I asked her to consider under what circumstances she would consider assisted living arrangements of some sort -- living with my sister who has made the offer many times or living in one of those semi-supervised situations.  I asked her what she wanted done with her ashes (she has already made provisions to be cremated) and what kind of service she would like.  Tough questions to ask or be asked, questions that I sincerely hope she'll answer taking the responsibility off the shoulders of her daughters.  Knowing her wishes and that we can follow them brings a kind of peace to me and I hope to her.

Yes, it's a tangle.  One that I will probably experience again when I return in February.  But I realized as I wrote this that a tangle of emotions isn't the best descriptor.  A love knot is much more accurate.