A Step in a Direction

It's 9:30 pm on Wednesday. Things are okay. Mom is doing well. All the nurses say so. She is finally adapting to her surroundings. She is adjusting. So why is it every time dad calls and tells me how she did that day I just want to break down and cry.

I get this sick feeling that she is in prison. All she has is that 7th floor. Never going out. Never feeling the sun on her face, nor the wind in her hair. She is stuck on the 7th floor. Every time my dad tells me he left her either in the common room or in her room I want to go and rescue her.

I know the nursing home is the best place for her and for all of us but still she is my mom. She doesn't know who I am or what I do or my name but I know who she is and she deserves better. So much better than where she is now. She is the cage animal only she doesn't know it. I know it and I feel guilty because I know. I remember and that's my sin. I remember.

Everyone says it's going to take some time to adjust. How much time no one can answer that question. I miss my mom. I miss the person she was. I miss making her laugh. I miss the way she couldn't tell a story to save her life. I miss teasing her. I miss my mom. I want her back. Is that selfish of me? I miss her guidance. I miss her messy way. But most of all I miss her love, her warm touch, and her.

This is a cruel disease. I'm not saying none of the other diseases we have aren't but this, this is the long good-bye or as my dad likes to call the longest wake he's ever been to. I agree. And yet she is healthy. Healthy as a horse. Healthy in body, just not in mind.

This post was supposed to be about my dad seriously thinking about getting a dog. An Irish terrier some how it turned into my mom. Maybe because Sunday is mother's day. A day to honor our moms. I can do that, she just won't know it.

I LOVE YOU MOM! I never said it enough when you were with us in body and mind and I'm sorry. I should have. I hope you know that I do LOVE YOU.