My Mother

It’s 4 Jul 2010. I woke up this morning bright and early with no particular agenda to follow other than exercising and making breakfast for my mother.

Speaking of ‘my’ mother, she’s not in the best of health lately. I’m noticing a real change in her demeanor and overall physical condition. It was noticeable again this morning when she got up, only to fall asleep in my dad’s recliner. Unusual for her in that she loves to have her coffee while reading the morning Playground News. This sleeping ‘routine’ before reading the paper and drinking coffee has been going on now for the past couple of weeks. I’m worried for her, for me. I’m thinking 2010 could be a watershed year in terms of my life and ‘maybe’ the end of hers.
Diagnosis…she’s depressed. I know that. She wants to die. I listen to her wish it so. I console her and tell her I love her and that she must somehow find the strength to continue her life’s journey to whatever end it takes. She must face her mortality with dignity and courage, just as my father did in his last few weeks in this reality. As much as I hope these ‘pep talks’ will help motivate her, somehow lately, it seems to fall on deaf ears. Yes folks, my mother is entering another phase, perhaps the final phase, and I find myself crying in silent moments of the day.

It was bad enough losing my father…I continue to grieve his loss. The prospect of losing my mother, especially when I never properly dealt with the death of my father, is so immense I just know it will threaten to consume every part of my being. Oh, I know death is one of the only things you can count on 100% in life. The papers are full of obituaries, reminding me that each of us in turn will die, that really there is nothing remarkable about death, except how we struggle against it. Dying is as natural as sneezing, as much a part of life as being born. However, for me personally, ‘My’ psychological hurdle is knowing I won’t belong to anyone anymore. The mere thought of being an orphan hits me like a ton of bricks. The very foundation that I was built on, the two people who brought me into this world, that somehow both will be gone, overwhelms me. To think I would no longer hear their quiet voices in my soul brings tears. Damn, I suddenly feel a huge sense of being “totally” alone.

Most of our lives are about the same things—diminishing suffering, finding happiness and peace, and having the ability to give and receive love. I think if we all think about it, that's what our lives are about. Here and now, in every home, and everywhere—that's what lives are about. Almost all human behavior is motivated by these things. Once my mother dies and I’m orphaned, I’ll have to live with that philosophy and that life is for the living and being alive means that one day I’ll die as well. Being human means we know we will die. What we do with that knowledge gives us the strength to continue on in this paradox we call ‘life’.

Happy 4th, folks!
Live long, live hard!