I prepared this blog entry early because in previous years I have been too saddened on Mother’s Day to write anything. In the last years of Mother’s dementia she grew quite companionable, eager to socialize and happy to be with me. It was then that I saw the mother that I would have had if not for whatever it was that ailed her and prevented normal human relationships. When the dementia first began to take her mind, my mother pitifully said to me, “I cannot even think, I should put an end to...(herself).” I immediately said, “Oh no, Mother, I’ll help you.” And she knew that I would and she stayed in the world for her entire natural lifespan. I moved her into my home with me soon after that.
Here she is in pretty pink suede work gloves, the new pink hat, and new pink eyeglasses that I bought her, keeping me company while I did yardwork. I cleared brush from my butterfly garden along the back fence, while Mother held a book as if she could still read and sipped ice tea. Some things never change, and that includes our mother-daughter bond.
Caption: Resting after yardwork under my peach tree with my mother, 2013.