Mother's Day

She is now 91. Her mind often is more foe than friend some days, as she battles to hold onto information. It is often difficult for her to struggle to fill up the hours as she searches for something that can grab her attention. These are obviously not quite the golden years I had hoped she would have.

But her role of mother remains unchanged. This is one thing that she will cling to with every ounce of strength until her last day. Many of our conversations have a Groundhog Day quality to them now, but they always, always center on her concerns as a mother and a grandmother. "What can I do for you? Do you have enough money? How are the kids? Richie seems to be doing so much better. Alex is such a wonderful child. What can I do for them? Isn't your sister wonderful? She would do anything for you. What can I do for you?"

From my earliest memories, she was unflinchingly and unabashedly devoted to my welfare. There was no me first in her vocabulary, whether it came to me, my sister or my father. We were always front and center stage. She had been a much loved teacher who had 'retired' once she married. Her energy and time was focused thereafter on making sure we understood how special our father was, how special we were and how fortunate our lot in life.

I don't ever remember a time growing up when I had to 'care' for my mom. There was never a reversal of roles. She was the giver, we the takers. Everything was handed out unconditionally and unceremoniously. We did not owe her for her good deeds. Her happiness was in seeing that our lives were full and settled.

Thus, it is often a challenge for me to take on the role of caregiver for my mom these days. Both my sister and I spend much of our time worried about how we can fill up the time and space for our mother. I find that I do things but, at certain moments, not with the same generosity of spirit that my mom has exhibited towards me. I am not happy with myself when I sense my frustration and wonder how I could be anything other than fully committed to making every second for my mom as comfortable as she has for me.

Today is Mother's Day. I sit here, early in the morning, waiting to call her. She sleeps much later now, and her days do not begin until she can shake the fog and stiffness. She will not remember much of what happened yesterday and will have trouble determining what today holds in store. But as I know the sun comes up every morning and sets every night, I can be assured that she will begin our conversation asking how my family is and what she can do for me. In that way my Mom is the same as she was in the days that are now but fading memories.

I love you Mom, and thank you for everything you were and everything you still are. Happy Mother's Day. What can I do for you?