First some background:
My father passed away at the beginning of January and even though my husband and I have just moved to St. George, Utah with our two children, I've spent more time in California this month than in Utah...and feeling guilty about deserting my own family for the one I grew up in.
I would have returned with my husband and kids after the memorial service, but my 87-year-old mother needs me right now. One of my sisters is living with her, but she works long hours and we just didn't think Mom should be left alone at this point during the day...and not only because of the loneliness.
Her eyesight is so bad that she's scheduled for cataract surgery tomorrow and I'm needed to drive her for the procedure, and the two post-op appointments. But even if her eyes weren't an issue, I'm needed right now.
You see, my mother's memory is fast failing her.
This morning, she asked my sister, "Am I 66 or 67?" At least she stopped and realized what she'd said a second or two later (once she noticed the look on my sister's face), but something tells me the day will come, all too soon, when she may ask that question in all earnestness.
It's a strange phenomenon to try to mother your own mother, and believe me, it's a delicate procedure. This is a woman who has prided herself for years on her independence, her driving, and her capacity to care for others. I'm walking a tightrope here...
And not writing.