Yesterday was one of those glorious spring days you treasure. The sky was truly azure, not a cloud in sight. I guess it was about 75 with just a mild breeze blowing. It was Easter Sunday and also, my late Dad's birthday. The little guys were in the yard blowing bubbles and kicking a soccor ball around. My brother Mark and I were talking in the kitchen. "Vic, I have a bottle of scotch I got from Dad's basement years ago. I only take it out on his birthday and have one drink. How about joining in a toast to Dad?" Out came a bottle of Chivas, about three quarters full. Mark put ice in two glasses and poured. We wished Reuben a happy birthday. Mark put the scotch away, in the back of the cabinet, until next year. Other people wandered in and the conversation turned to other things. My Dad loved to cook and he loved family gatherings, so we always feel he's hanging out with us on these occasions. Would he miss his own birthday?
My mom sat in the living room with her eyes closed. Pete was napping in a recliner. John greeted me with "Welcome to the half-time room". Mom opened her eyes, looked at me and smiled. She got up and moved closer to me. "I'm glad to see you." She has good days and lost days. Yesterday was kind of a mix. Her Alzheimer's is slowly progressing and at this point, she still realizes that fact. We spoke of friends. We spoke of Dad. We spoke of her great-grandchildren. I used to mourn the loss of the parts of her that are gone. Sometimes, I still do, but I realized I want to celebrate that part of her that still is present. It frightens me to think of what she is going through. I used to stop by to visit her in the house I grew up in. There was always a cup of tea, some Entenmann's cake and conversation. "So, Victoria, tell me what's new," followed by the latest church choir gossip or her conversation with one of her sisters. Toward the end of her stay in that house she would look at me and say "I know I'm losing it, Vickie, but I don't know what to do." What do you do? She was frightened all the time, but she refused to have anyone stay with her. It must have been like being in one of those fun house mirror mazes. Nothing was what it appeared to be for her. She was lost in her own home.
My horoscope today advised me the moon was crossing the River Styx, into the realm of Pluto, the god of the underworld. I thought of my mom. According to mythology, there are five rivers which separate the living from the netherworld, Styx, the river of hate, which circles the underworld nine times, Acheron the river of woe, Cocytus, the river of lamentation, Pyriphlegethon, the river of fire and Lethe, the one my mom is crossing, the river of forgetfulness. It is a slow and difficult ride for the traveler and for those left behind. Like any journey, there are many adventures along the way. You never know what the fates have in store for you.
Life unfolded, the way it does. Mom lives in an assisted living facility close by. She's adapted and likes it. She calls it home, so home it is. I'm appreciating each day, instead of pining for something that is now a memory. No guarantee as to how long I get to keep those, anyway. So, here's to the here and now. It's the only thing that is real.
picture~natalie & caitlin, selder, ny easter 2010
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