Today, I visited my Mom in the hospital for Mother’s Day. I smuggled her a snickers and a bag of gumdrops and a coffee coolatta. She has been there three days. For months, she has been tired, unorganized, angry when I mention that she has become forgetful and doesn’t make sense sometimes, and mostly, when I mention that she needs to stop smoking because she had been coughing like crazy.
She had three bouts of bronchitis/pneumonia for two years. Come to find out, these were COPD flare-ups. WE JUST THOUGHT SHE WAS DEPRESSED WITH NO ENERGY, BUT SHE WAS SICK! She was rushed via ambulance from her doctor’s appointment that she attended at our urging. Her oxygen level was 82. A normal person is 100-95, below 95, your kind of in trouble. 82 warranted an emergency. Her oxygen is see-sawing all over the place. They need her stabilized, up and walking. She may not be able to do most of the things that she used to: drive, babysit, go shopping, do laundry, clean, make dinners. This hasn’t sunk in for me yet, but it does at moments when the panic rises inside of me thinking that I am losing my own Mother before my eyes. My Grandfather just died in April. My Step-Grandmother, his wonderful wife, died last September. The family has been rocked hard… my sister’s fiance was involved in a freak accident the day before my Grandfather died when a tree fell on his truck while he and his employees were doing tree removal services. He is expected to walk in a walker in 6 months. For now, he is in Boston recuperating with the best doctor’s available.
My Mother spoiled us all. We also have a very complicated relationship with her… she tried to control, we tried to claim our lives as our own. We have been subjected to non-constructive criticism regarding parenting, love interests, jobs, how we wash our dishes, etc. There is hurt and wounds from our family that run deep and are cross-generational. It is all of our faults, but we place the blame on people. The easiest way for screwed-up people to feel better is to blame our parents. My Sisters and Brothers and I are guilty as charged. I didn’t realize how hard parenting is until I had to do it, on my own. If it wasn’t for my Mother babysitting during my working years and for being there for me when I called every hour to ask about mixing cereal and food and if a bottle was still good 4 hours after the 24 hours you can keep it in the fridge, and about when to call the doctor and give tylenol, I would have probably lost it.
In unrelated news, I received a card from my Daughter’s Father saying, “Thanks for raising our precious little girl”… duly noted. Thank you Daddy!
So, my Mother’s Day was spent making sure the woman who gave birth to me was ok in her hospital room, eating a healthy brunch with my sister, nieces, and child, having my best friend come over and cook dinner for me, and spending it sitting around with my little one playing with her “LITTLE PEOPLE”….
All in all, I am grateful. Grateful that my Mother is doing well. Grateful that my daughter is healthy and feeling better from her most recent bout of sinusitis. Grateful for the ability to change some things in my life that desperately need to be changed. And grateful that I am a Mother, and have had the passion, empathy, strength and courage it takes to do a good job at it!!!!
