I'm not so old that I do not remember what a "broken heart" is. It is the crushes that go wrong when you first start noticing the boys. The high school sweetheart, for some at least, who "breaks your heart..." Well, I think you get the drift.
My Mom lives in Michigan, where we were raised and where we raised our families before moving west. We saw my parent's at least yearly, for a winter visit. Two years ago, Mom says that they won't be coming this year "...cuz we/re just getting too old". I haven't been able to travel because of some health issues, so I have not seen my parents in a long time. The phone kept us somewhat in touch...and time passes.
2010 my mom is diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. (She has out lived all of her family at 85 years of age. ) And what a sentence. This disease is often called one in which the family suffers, as the "patient" is more and more unaware of their surroundings. When mom called me Fern I wasn't that upset, tho' I did remember Fern is the sister she did not get along with. At that time there were so many lucid moments that a few not knowing who or where was forgivable.
Today I learned from my sister/saint Mary that there is a possibility of calling "hospice" in if she doesn't start eating. Now, we all know what "hospice" means. (sort of like calling the priest for Extreme Unction in the old days) You always wanted to wait to be certain the person was REALLY going to die. Mom mostly sleeps now and occasionally knows Mary. I am 2000 miles away and am trying to somehow digest all of this and wonder what and if I should go.
Anyone who knows me well, knows that my mom and me had a somewhat violable relationship. I am not sure why but we both had to be right and wanted all of the people around us to take our side. When I would realize how silly this was---I would write notes, (especially when I was younger) to tell her how sorry I was. This is maybe that note to her.
I am so sorry to be so far away. I wish I could be more of a help, especially for Mary. I wish I could sit at your feet and you would stroke my hair and tell me how much you love me. Instead I am stuck on a rewind in my head of EVERY DISAGREEMENT we have ever had. In that respect, I am almost grateful that you are unaware of your memories. Pleas take a somewhat recent one where we were at Traverse City and you and I went back to the cottage together. I don't recall our conversation but I do recall laughing and being happy that I was with you. I have tried to hold that memory in these days of hearing your struggle.
I have always believed that God knew who our parents were...and so, no matter any disagreements in life, You were the MOM He gave me. Thanks for all you have done---and even for what you have NOT DONE. Somehow in that mixed up mind PLEASE know that I love you and I pray for a peaceful departing of this step of your journey into the next. Oh, and mom, all your tears will be washed away into laughter and you can run to your Mom's arms.