What I miss about her the most today is just talking to her. We use to talk on the phone a lot and just to be clear, I would do all the talking. She could get me to tell stories and she always acted so interested. I knew I could get her to laugh or giggle if I wanted, I knew just what she thought would be funny. Other times she would listen to me worry over something silly or talk my way around something until I figured it out. She had an ever so slight way of guiding me through things that I never really realized until late in her life, when she started to lose her edge in that department because of the dementia. Anyways, that is what I miss tonight, that interaction with her. Even as she started to decline she always had the energy and where-with-all to pull it together for a little conversation with me. I may have just talked to my Dad about how she was having a hard day putting things together and how he was concerned about how she was holding up, but when he turned the phone over to her I knew she was okay when I heard her clear her throat before saying hello. She always did that, the clearing the throat thing was habitual before starting a conversation on the phone. I love that I knew that about her. These phone conversations helped me keep tabs on her when I wasn't able to make it over for a visit or she wasn't able to come here. But, the last week of her life she wouldn't talk to me on the phone anymore. Not a word. She was leaving me and I knew our relationship was changing, that was a hard road to cross. Many would say she is my angel now, and I believe this and find comfort in it, but I still miss those basic interactions I had with her. Ones that on a night like tonight, I would pick up the phone and tell my Mom a story or two about our week.
A story like how I woke up in the middle of last night to find Harrison fully awake in his room, light on, with Grey our cat playing a game of chase, jumping, running, you name it. Obviously I didn't realize Grey was in the room when I went to bed, but I suspect that Harrison knew all along and didn't tell me there was an extra guest in his room when I said goodnight to him. Sneaky, sneaky. The funny thing is I think they both enjoyed the little encounter. Grey tried to snuggle his way up to Harrison's door after I kicked him out of it, trying to charm his way back in. Harrison woke up this morning, late this morning, talking all about how Grey kitty slept by his feet and hid under the bed and how he tried to catch him. Then he ran downstairs and tried to find his furry little friend to relive the adventure. I'm afraid the daylight hours didn't quite hold the same effect as a mid-night rendezvous. Grey ran the other direction when he saw him. Great story, right? Well, at least she would have thought so...
Anyways, thanks for listening, that helped, I'll get up off of the couch now and I'm sure things will start to feel a little easier. :)
5 comments:
I love hearing you talk about your Mom. And, I loved the bit about her clearing her throat before getting on the phone. Those little nuances are what really make people who they are, don't you think? I can only imagine the void you feel with the loss of your Mom . . .
And, I love the little story about Grey and Harrison. Sneaky little guy - but a cute story to remember.
I've loved seeing you more often thanks to the Tennis Club.
xoxo
Your mom sounds a lot like my mom. When I read about her, it made me cry. I think sometimes life requires us to be so strong and it's unfair. I loved your story too. Lots of love.
Love the post. It makes your mom more real to me. Thanks for sharing the ongoing process grief has to be.
sniff sniff.
I remember the clearing the throat too. Sometimes, when she would say "Laaauuuurrraa....??" That was the only word spoken, but we knew she was really saying 'now Laura, I know you're giving me a little mischieve right now, but in the end you are going to do the right thing. Now be a good girl.'
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