friday

mother home. mother in hospital. mother home again.

i vacillate between seeking her approval and wishing myself far from her presence.

new york happens next wednesday morning...

*le sigh*

stranger

it's difficult.

i sit, all day, between 9-6, listening to her breathe, to her muttered comments as she finds some odd dreamscape to dwell in, to the movements of the nurses tending to bags and tubes and medicines.

i knit. i read. i have my coffee. and i listen.

she's a bit better now, sitting up for longer periods, unhooked from a number of the bags, finally able to eat again. she's still attached to a machine to feed her drugs to numb the pain, although even that's being weened away.

there is something missing, though. this fighter i'd always known is gone. she's old and weak and scared. she sees her mother coming to take her, and cries. she lives inside the television shows she's watching, and is querrelous. she's not my mother, she's some stranger in my mother's wrinkled skin.

it's difficult dealing and caring for one you respected and loved... it's another game altogether to do the same for someone you are not close to, not attached to, not wishing to have to be in this spot.

i put a cool cloth on her head, hold the drink, answer her silly questions. i leave, hurry home to the cats, then over to ruby's to spend the night, listening with half an ear for her to get up and wander around, possibly setting off the alarms...again.

i'm scheduled to go to new york for two weeks, to help a friend there... i leave on the 2nd. neither of them are happy with my decision, however, i have to go, or i shall sink into a deep well of sadness.

it's difficult. a difficult task, a difficult schedule, a difficult time.

it'll pass. it always does.

update

mother's kidney now rests wherever it is that they throw old kidneys.

the operation was a complete success... done in 90 minutes, no complications.. she's in huge pain since there were some adheisions to be cut away and, well, the surgeon DID have his hand shoved in a small hole in her side, moving stuff around.

plus,they gave me 4x6 glossies of her insides. i'm not sure what i'm supposed to do with them, though.

at the same time she was getting part of her insides removed, hrh was having an ultrasound to find out about her baby (due january 16th)--we are having a boy. i predicted this, so, was not surprised. it does allow me to go hog wild and buy lots of boy things.

i'm still at ruby's house at night, keeping an eye on her, and spending the day at the hospital, with an hour in-between to catch my breath and feed the cats. with luck, i'll know by tomorrow when i'm back to new york, and that will make me smile for a number of reasons

including the joy of knowing i won't be living beneath the elephant walk lady.

oops!

times like this, i'm so glad my mother doesn't read my blog.

four generations ago, my great great grandmother brought a pitcher with her to america. she gave it to my great grandmother who gave it to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother, who gave it to me. it was to go to caitlin in a few years.

now, this was an ugly ass pitcher... beige with brown and yellow flowers hand painted on it.. the glaze was crackled... it was, well, ugly.

still, i treasured it as it had been passed down with love for so many, many years.

tonight, with a leap and a CRASH!!!! the cat managed to stop that tradition in it's tracks.

even with my belief things are nothing more than things... i felt sick to my stomach.

and, i'm glad my mother doesn't read this blog, 'cause i have NO intentions of telling her.

how does it feel?

i look at her, and wonder how what it's like.

i think, perhaps, this is what i fear most of being, of having a beloved... the possibility of loss. the family friend i am caring for right now lost her husband of 55 years in february, and daily i watch her fail.. looking into some place only she can see, waiting to see his face again. i read maggie's blog and see the same thing happened with her loved ones.

and, i wonder...what is it like?

to be so in tune with someone, you are bereft without their presence.. that you feel their empty space in your life so much, it's painful to think about.

i can't imagine.

i wish i could.

oops!

mother fell down some stairs today, her foot having slipped on the carpet.

i'll be over there, 24/7 for a day or so, to see how she goes... her back was hurting, but, the tube in her kidney seems to be okay. the good side to all of this is i am back to creative cooking...something i've not done in ages. living alone, well, i didn't cook. now, i have two ladies who find great pleasure in what i create.

plus, i have an unlimited budget for their meals... coq au vin, lasagne, rich soups, lovely salads, slow roasted pork loin, shrimp spring rolls... it's great fun.

i shall return.

days of our lives

things are moving along.

every day, i look for something to amuse me, to move me beyond the overwhelmed place i'm in. my mother is ill, awaiting the removal of a kidney... she lives with a family friend, who is 86--sharp as a tack--but, infirm. both of them are under my care right now. when mother is in the hospital, i stay overnights with Miss R, who needs someone there 24/7.

it's difficult for me to take this on, since i'm not really very close with my mother. however, this needs to be done, so, i go there every morning, and stay through breakfast, lunch, supper... and all that is in-between, from doctors appointments to errands.

so, i look for things that make me amused.

i've discovered the 'stork mortuary'--the irony of the name makes me laugh. there is the 'beauty salon' that miss r goes to, where no one under the age of 80 is there, including the hairdressers. the photos on the wall, advertising various looks, are from 1979. i'm pretty sure there is a parking space for walkers in the foyer.

there is the man who was driving the mitsubishi eclipse... a fairly pricey sports car. he pulled up as i was parking the chevy i drive these days (you can't fit a walker in a two seat-er, even if it is a mercedes benz), driving slowly down towards the open space next to mine.

he didn't park there, though.

he pulled into the handicapped spot, and stopped. i stopped too, to watch. slowly opening the door, he got out... all 90 years of him. he then held on to the side of the car, until he reached the popped open trunk... and he took out a walker.

yes, a walker.

in a sports car.

i laughed so hard, i had to put my hand over my mouth, although i'm fairly sure he wouldn't have heard me even if i'd been right next to him.

sophie is not happy right now, with my new schedule.. and the fact i come home smelling like the terrier, who, along with mother, is in my daily life. the terrier is in heaven with me there, almost wiggling out of her skin when i show up, lying by the door sighing when i leave.

outside, we have bob the stray cat, that miss r wants me to catch tomorrow, and take to the vet.

riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

i'm going to go outside, lure a feral cat into a carrier and carry the swinging back and forth from him throwing himself against the sides carrier to the vet, who, if he is smart, will jab him with a tranquiliser through the grate then take care of his face and paw, both which show signs of being messed up in a fight.

so, i look for things every day, to amuse me, pull me out of the place i don't want to be, make things work.

and, they do.