People often ask me if it is difficult to live with your mother. And I say, sometimes it is. When she is telling me to clean my room when I am, uhm...uhm, 50-something-years-old. When she gets upset about how M and I can take off our clothes in one motion, leaving the underwear, socks, pants, shirt all in one piece (which she laters has to unravel to do laundry). When she won't sit down to watch a movie and keeps cleaning the kitchen, banging plates and pans together so we can't hear the movie ... until I feel compelled to get up and go see what needs to be down in the kichen. Those are all small things when I think about my mom living too far away from me to see her everyday ... to talk and listen and have our lives entwined until the end. I don't want it any other way. I am very lucky to have her as my mom.
Living with a parent can teach you so much about life. Compassion, compromise and lots more love. Thank you all so very, very much for all of your well wishes. I printed them out and took them to the hospital. She had another scare with GI bleeding and is still in ICU.
Tonight, when I gave M the last bit of mom's dressing (that I completely love) ... I had the morbid thought ... that might be the last bite of her dressing ever and I am not eating it myself! But I know she will be back cooking and crashing around in the kitchen before I know it. The kitchen is my mom's domain. She cooks and cleans in her finest jewerly and clothes ... She has the knack. I do not. And I know I have not eaten the last of my mom's home cookin'.
Ancestors, Antiques, and Architecture
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