Forgetting
My mother, who is 86 and just lost her husband of 65 years, is amazing. Ever since my father passed in April, I call her every other morning just to chat. Her spiritual foundation is strong and her outlook is surprisingly light. She’s only got a touch of dementia, so our conversations are very present and can be very uplifting for us both.
Mostly we just report on what’s happening around us. She and I share a great love for nature, so I often talk about the birds at the feeder that morning, the weather, the trees, my son and what he’s up to, what we had for breakfast. She loves it.
My mom loves to laugh and can be quite funny. Yesterday she was telling me about someone who had gotten fired from the assisted living place where she now lives. I asked her if this was someone she was close with, and she said no. And then she said, “It’s so strange living in this big building with all these people who have their own apartments. I’ve never lived like this before. I’m learning a lot” I asked her what she was learning. She was quiet for a moment and then said, “Well, I know it’s important, I just don’t remember what it is!”
Then she started laughing and said “That’s pretty funny isn’t it? I know I’m learning something big, but I don’t remember what. Remembering must not be the important part.”
We laughed together for a while about this. Then I thanked her for helping me start my day by putting everything into perspective.
October 18th, 2007 at 5:56 pm
I admire couples who’ve been together for such a long time, especially the ones who I see driving together on the road, or at the grocery store and the ones still holding hands. Truly admirable.