Sunday, May 4, 2014

Mom awoke early this morning, but I coaxed her back in bed. She’s up now and eating breakfast, after having asked the usual questions: What time is it? Where is Rob? Is he still sleeping?

I have showered her, cleaned the bathroom, dressed her, and prepared her bowl of cereal. She is ready for the day, such as it is: word search puzzles and television. I wish I could move her onto the porch but she refuses. Mom is in the kitchen now, beating her Cheerios to death. Rob once jokingly said she thinks they are little people and has to club them before she eats them. It actually sounds as though she is cutting them into little pieces. Her eyesight is good enough for the puzzles; so that cannot be the problem.

But at least mom is showered and I am airing her room. If she were aware that her bedroom windows were wide opened, she would protest mightily. Mom has always been a windows-closed, shades-down kind of woman: no air, no light. The love of darkness and airlessness does not pertain in this household, much to mother’s dismay.

(Mom is calling. Just a minute.)
Where were you? Were you in your office again?
Yes, mom. What do you need?
I don’t even have a Kleenex.
(I gave mom a napkin.)
Thanks, Sandy. Are you going in your office again?
Yes, mom.

Of course, I feel guilty even sitting here and typing this. Mom wants company. Is that too much to ask? But mom wants company all day long. Yesterday, I spent half the day cleaning out the garden beds, digging, and moving and planting the heartier plants. I have a garden, work, a household, a life, and a mother who needs full-time attention. More than anything, she wants someone to sleep with her. She is afraid of the nighttime. I left the light on the other night at her request, but she turned it off during the night.

Those Cheerios are surely all dead by now!