Hi Hi,
Welcome to jewels šjust for you! A weekly bonus for paid subscribers where I share one wonderful thingā¦okay, possibly two šš !
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After Iāve checked and checked again, and possibly checked once more that the gate is firmly latched at Cloud Nine Villa, my motherās assisted living, I slump in my car, so happy to be in my driverās seat, so happy to buckle myself in, and to pull away. I will not take my wellness, my independence for granted. Iām certain my mother did not know the moment she took her final drive. The moment she safely walked alone for the final time. The last time any of us do any one thing could be nowā¦ or now... or now.
Each time I say goodbye to my mother Iām surprised I even like myself. If you could hear my cruel inner monologue you might balk. My motherāher stuttering steps, refusal to use her cane, click of her teeth, refusing help with her shoes, frantically searching for non-existent credit cards, slowly lifting the spoon from her bowl to the dark cave of her waiting mouth, her demandsā¦what? what? what?, her expectations, her complaints about too much sunshine, the other residents, the telehealth meeting, the food, her persistent denialā¦ Iām fine!ādrains me. In my head I am not gracious. In my head I donāt think caring is a privilege. In my head I am not proud of myself.
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Two Saturdays ago, around 7p I received a call from Cloud Nine Villa. āDo you know where your mother is? Sheās been gone for 6 hours.ā
Of course I donāt know where my mother is. I am in Oregon. She is in California.
āShe left at 1p with a tall, bearded man.ā