Good Night

Published to you without edits….because raw is better;)

“I just feel so tired” Mom said last night before dinner. She was unusually tired and not antisocial but not particularly social either. We decided to have our Briyani dinner wherever we were and not set the table as we usually do. “Yeah, she seems a little off today” Thomas said, seeing that Mom was not her usual jovial tank-like self. “I think I just get stressed” she said, noting that the chaos around her sometimes gets to her and I get it, I really do. She has a new habit of scratching her arms fairly continuously throughout the day, particularly when she’s nervous. Last night seemed a little extra with that, and she kept putting her head in her hands while closing her eyes which she never does. “It’s like seeing a horse lie down” Meg once said about our mothers showing any kind of resting pattern. Horses do lie down, by the way. I checked.

About 30 minutes later, as I was traversing the main floor, I discovered that Mom’s oxygen cord was disconnected. “Um, I think I know why you’re feeling a little peaked” I told Mom, holding up the cord. “Oh, is that disconnected??” she asked, bewildered. “Yup” I told her while immediately reconnecting and dialing the liters up to 5. “No wonder” she said shrugging. She had moved her compressor herself and it somehow got disconnected in the process. At her birthday party, she used the portable tank and literally ran out of gas around 9 PM, unbeknownst to all of us until I noticed she seemed unusually tired. “She really is a tank” Thomas says all the time. “She’s a force.” As someone who is half her age who went through a significant medical event these past two weeks, I truly don’t understand how she does it. They simply don’t make them like her anymore and I am her literal flesh and blood. I try but I will never reach that peak.

Today, Mom is chipper as always and commenting happily albeit bewilderedly on the days’ news. “He’s like Israel’s Bin Laden” I told her about the killing of Sinwar this week. Whether it be world news or big time jumps in movies these days, I explain a lot which is sometimes incredibly annoying as I have to do it over the volume of the television which is impossibly loud. “THIS IS FROM ABOUT TEN YEARS AGO BEFORE THEY EVEN MET.” I yell about shows like The Bear. “HE’S NOT HIS BROTHER HE’S HIS COUSIN BUT THEY’RE LIKE BROTHERS.” and “HE GOES TO ALANON I THINK BECAUSE HIS BROTHER WAS AN ADDICT AND HIS MOTHER IS AN ALCOHOLIC NOT HIM. NO. HIS ACTUAL BROTHER IS DEAD.” “And who’s that?” she asks. “That’s his sister.” “Who?” “his SISTER”. We got through The Bear but it required a lot of pausing and explaining. J.D. thoroughly enjoys listening to this from upstairs. He didn’t even need to watch the show, he got the full synopsis from my yelling. It’s ironic because I have lost quite a bit of hearing in my left ear which is just this week being understood why for the first time. Someday, my kids may need to yell synopses and explain world news to me while I add unfiltered comments about current politicians. Ask Mom what she thinks about Trump. I dare you.

Barb was here with us this weekend too and she’s fully embracing life as her world rapidly changes from making sense to not. Since her PCA/Alzheimer’s diagnosis, she has spent many weekends in Hanson as it is her original home and a safe haven of sorts. Her makeup and clothes are in several places all around and she will be the first to point it out. “Looks like that girl Barbara’s been here.” she said laughing this morning. I laughed too because it’s true. She’s a whirlwind, always has been, just now it’s a little more….windy. She’s not just facing a life altering diagnosis but also divorce from her husband of nearly 25 years. Sometimes the best laid plans don’t work out and our best expectations are not met. Isn’t that a universal truth? I breathe through all of the above because I know its value, its worth. All of our lights go out at some point but I have the distinct honor of watching two lights burning as brightly as possible while the fuel is still there. Mom waited up for Barb last night, worried that she wouldn’t get home safely. “Once a mother, always a mother.” Mom told me. I went to bed because I knew there was nothing I could do to take that worry out of her head. I sliced her an apple and put a big dollop of caramel sprinkled with pecans on the plate and slid into bed next to Thomas. I don’t even think we said good night. I guess we already knew it was. This was on our playlist in front of our fire…..