2007-03-09
holding on to the present
|I never knew my maternal grandmother; she died when I was about two and a half years old. For the first time in my life, while I was having lunch with my mother and my kids, my mom asked me if I remembered my grandma. I told her the truth and I could see the disappointment in her eyes.
I thought it was so odd that she asked me that, just recently, because that is a huge fear of mine. My oldest daughter will turn seven next month and I know she will remember my parents. My middle daughter just turned four in February and I'm pretty sure she will have solid memories. However, my baby is just 20 months old.
She definitely recognizes my parents (we see them every week) because when she sees them she jumps up and down, squeals and smiles at them. So I know right now she knows them and loves them, but I know she will not remember them should they die anytime soon.
I am not above bargaining with God. I do it often when it comes to my parents. I try not to but while I was pregnant the last time I found myself saying, "Please just let my mom live long enough to see the baby." My latest bargaining plea is, "My oldest daughter will make her First Communion next May (2008). Please let Mom and Dad live through that."
I know it's never going to be enough. There will never come a time when I say, "Okay, they've seen enough God. Go ahead and take them both."
I suppose my mom is gently acknowledging to me that she knows death is looming. As you may know, she has moderate Alzheimer's and it is getting progressively worse. She is still aware that she is losing her memory and I know a time will come when she's not aware of the disease. She will just no longer recognize me or my family.
I think both she and I are worried about her death. I tried to tell her I feel like I know my grandma because of the stories my mom has shared with me. But it's not the same and it won't be the same for me and my youngest daughter.
I suppose this can be classified in the "Life is Messy" Department. I think movies and television try to anesthetize death and so we assume it is supposed to be one more task to accomplish on our ever-growing list of things to do. Just another item to cross off so we can move on to clearing the brush out from under the deck.
To combat that, I'm trying to live in the moment, to savor every encounter with my parents and really see them as the people they are, rather than just my parents. But I can't shake the feeling that every time I hug them and say goodbye it might be the last time I say goodbye.
2007-03-09 at 7:06 a.m.
