Its not often I have something on my mind two nights in a row, but tonight is one of those exceptions. I have the rare opportunity of being at home alone tonight and it has really brought things into light.
There are so many things I miss about my mom. I miss her and I talking about nothing for hours. I have found lately, I have a hard time talking to her. I mean, I do talk, but nothing close to what I did in the past. I miss our talks about literally nothing. I have really had to force myself to actually talk to her about what is going on in our lives. We use to talk about anything and everything. I miss that. I guess you can call it me being scared to talk because I don’t want her to get to where she can’t find her words. I know when she can’t find them, she gets so mad at herself. And who can blame her? Someone who has always given me advise, been my shoulder to cry on, always says the right things can’t tell me what she knows she wants to say. That is the heart breaking reality of dementia. Its like they get trapped inside their head, trying to get out, but no matter how hard you try, there isn’t a way out.
The other thing we did a lot, and I mean A LOT, is our mother daughter dates. Generally 2-3x a month, we would go out to lunch, go shopping, or just drive around. I treasure those moments more and more. I am at a point I really need one of those days, but I know it won’t happen and accepting that reality, well, is heartbreaking. We would have so many talks about life, about anything, and the one thing I want to talk to her about, I can’t. Her illness. But back to shopping, we would sometimes go crazy. The best times though were when my son would go with us. He always wanted to go walk around with grandma and he would always end up with a toy of some kind. Started at Hotwheels, Cars cars, then to Legos, then to something else. He had her wrapped around his pinky finger and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. She always made sure he had what he needed, and wanted. When I was low on food, she would buy me groceries, when he needed school stuff, she always got it, when he wanted something, she always got it. Our bills were taken care of if need be. I know I was and still am her world. I miss calling her and telling her I wanted to get out… less than an hour later, she was picking me up.
But the biggest thing I miss. Her cooking. I learned how to cook between my mom and grandma. I remember as a young girl, sitting on the counter and pouring the ingredients in. I was always helping mom cook. As a teen, I didn’t do it as much, but I did and I miss it. I miss getting her soups when I wasn’t feeling well. I miss her brownies because my son spent the night and he always wanted brownies. I remember not long after I had my son, I came down with the flu. I was so sick, and my mom took care of my son and I know she brought me food. I will never forget that. I miss my grandma’s cooking as well. Baking bread was always my favorite thing to do. Fresh out of the oven came one batch, in went a second. And by the time that second batch got done, half a loaf of bread was gone because we scarfed it down with butter.
In all of these things I miss, I have learned to try to get my son involved as much as possible. I try to pass on some of the learned traditions. I want him to have as many good memories with me as I do my mom. I have learned that you may not be able to get a teenager to want to do something with you, but if you always let him know that he can help me anytime, he is always welcome. I have also learned to be more available to him. And I mean all the way emotionally and mentally available. I have learned who he is by just letting him talk. And he will talk my ear off, but I know that if I don’t listen, he won’t be willing to come to me about a serious matter. The things I miss the most has taught me to be a better parent. I just pray that he doesn’t have to recover from anything he has had in his childhood. But, so far, so good.