Missing Mom

Lately I have sat staring blankly at the empty post form on the computer screen in front of me. Perhaps I have "writer's block" or maybe I just haven't yet worked through some of the emotional trauma of the past few months. In some ways I have succeeded in blocking out the pain of my mother's passing. Maybe that's common with full time caretakers, I don't know, but there is a part of me that just doesn't want to go there... and then there is another part that desperately wants to fall apart and sob uncontrollably.

In all honesty, I miss my mom. I miss the woman who lived here for the past three and a half years, the physically fragile, emotionally detached, and child-like woman, but the one I really miss disappeared long ago, a little at a time.

I'm not sure exactly when she began to slip away... She often appeared to be there when she wasn't, and then there were times when she was more present than we imagined. One of the most difficult things was that we didn't talk about it with her. It was like we were all keeping a deep, dark secret that would maybe go away if we could just ignore it long enough.

We lived with much uncertainty. Did she have Alzheimer's disease? Was she having strokes? Was the memory loss and confusion all caused by her oxygen use? Would it help to know what was causing the confusion or was looking for an answer a waste of time and money? Would knowing change anything? How long would she continue to slip away and what kind of person would she eventually become? How could we plan for the future and still keep up with the everyday? There were so many questions, but in the end God took her home in just the way I'd hoped and expected, the same way my son had desperately feared in his year of living with her.

I looked for my copy of Mom's memorial service today but didn't find it. I must have packed it into the box of my own stuff that I cleaned off her table last weekend. Maybe it's not really a good idea to cry this afternoon anyway. Perhaps listening to Dad sing is a better idea.