Sometimes Mom reminds me so much of Dad. I don't know if it is the season of dying, or their lifetime together, or just a generational thing. Yesterday as Mom was finishing her breakfast, she fussed at me, "Gwen, you are to only cook me two pieces of bacon." I replied, "Oh! Okay. Would you like me to put that [third piece of bacon] in the fridge?" Mom exclaimed, with her mouth full, "No! I'm going to eat it."
Then later in the day, Mom declared that she wanted to cut down her personal aide visits to once per week. I asked, "Don't you want to shower?" ( I must admit to be a little alarmed at this declaration. Mom is wearing an adult diaper. Bathing only once per week would be hard on her skin and hard on the atmosphere.) "Yes, I want to shower." Pause. "She uses too many towels!" Oh my gosh.
How perfect that I had just read this bit from a book my friend edited. I love the perspective.
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SPECIAL NOTE TO HOMETOWN READERS
I just thought I would let you know, my parents do not know I am blogging about them. I'd like to keep it that way, please. This is just a way to keep folks updated and my free therapy as we pack my parents' suitcases for a place none of us has been.
(I guess my dad knows about my blog now. I'm pretty sure he is okay with it.)
Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Blog Archive
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2011
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December
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- Don't Say That! (part two)
- Announcement
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December
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About Me
- Gwen
- I am a wife, mother, sister, and friend. Life is full of stories, and I consider it free therapy to write some of them here.
Denial
"Denial is when we think we can set aside old issues and build a new relationship with our parents. We tell ourselves that things will be different this time, that our parents have changed. What we're denying is our own feelings, perhaps anger or abandonment or betrayal. We're also denying the very real possibility that nothing has changed, that our parents will be just as they always were." Eleanor Cade
Mom's Health Odyssey
- June 30, 2012 -- Entrance into Heaven
- May 2010 -- Colon Cancer
- Date?? -- TIAs detected
- Winter 2010 -- Intestinal Blockage
- Fall 2008 -- Atrial Fib, Blood Pressure
- 2002 -- Broken Femur
- Spring 1990 -- Colo-Rectal Cancer
What 62 Years Looks Like
Dad's Health Odyssey
- August 16, 2010 -- Entrance into Heaven
- May 2010 -- Sepsis/Hospital
- October 2009 -- Hospital for Low Blood Pressure
- Summer 2009 -- Blood Bacteria, etc./Month in hospital
- Fall 2008 -- Arteriogram
- Spring 2008 -- Memory Blip for 1/2 Day
- Spring 2008 -- Pacemaker
- December 1999 -- Whacks Head
- Fall 1989 -- Quadruple Bypass
Circle of Stubbornness
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