Anticipating Another Mother's Day

Mom was is dying. Slowly disintegrating into an unknown existence. First her mind, then also her body. All she remembered was her name.

She was elderly and had dementia for at least her final 5 years, probably even longer the doctors said. It got very bad between us once the paranoia of the dementia became very strong. Unfortunately, I was the only one she had to which to focus all of her fear, her anger and understandable confusion.

She would've be horrified by the wicked games of the dying brain and the dependency on the others. In the end she was just an old fragile woman who wanted peace. In the whispers of her ultimately foggy mind, her love broke through like a flower breaks through the asphalt; briefly piercing through the dementia and always unexpected. I wish I could've given that to her.

I knew Mom too well.

At the time I did not even know what narcissism was. I just thought I wasn't good enough to love. If I would have known what narcissism at that time, I definitely would've understood how my mother was no doubt was a card carrying member. But until your mother tells you that you are, in fact, worth loving, you can only believe it intellectually. It is actually thee most personal and soul validation there is. Without it, we are faking it.

I can take solace in knowing things intellectually but integrating it with my heart has been a slow arduous effort, to say the least. I think as a result, I did not feel grief so much as relief.

I know where she’s buried, but I have no desire to visit her grave. I haven’t resolved the question of whether or not I can forgive her. All I can say is I hope she rests in peace. I’m glad I’ve finally found a bit of my own.

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