MY MAN I LOVED HIM SO

I had this thought last night for the very first time. What I realized was that if I never, ever called my mom again I would never, ever speak to her again.

My mom would never realize that I did not call and she would never try to call me. She has no idea what my telephone number is and although it is plastered all over her refrigerator she would never know to look there. I don't even think that she would know how to dial a phone. Yes, mom get's incoming calls everyday from myself and my brother, yet she has not dialed a phone in several years.

I know that she cannot work the microwave, or the washing machine, or remember to flush a toilet, or what to use to brush her hair with, so why would she possibly know how to call me. Wow. I'm out of breath just thinking about it, no less writing about it.  I wonder if my mom ever has a quick flash as to all the things that she use to know, that she can no longer do? On a brighter note when her phone does ring she still can answer and say" hello".

MY MAN I LOVE HIM SO (fourteen months ago)

Hi sweetie she says when she hears my voice on the other side of the phone. I respond with how’s my favorite Mama Mia and my mom reverses it and says "Mia Mama is good and how are you"?  We giggle like teenagers.  After several conversations with my mom, she then says" there are something’s that I am not going to remember.  I cannot keep everything in my head , and  not everything is important for me  to remember”.  Wow, mom you certainly have a point there.

From time to time she has mentioned something about her dining room chandelier, how nice it is.  She tells me that my dad had picked it out, and that originally she had not liked it.  Yet she now says that my dad was right and that it is a beautiful chandelier.  Mom then interupts herself, and shares with me that she was the sick one ,and how she always thought that she would die first.  She explains that my dad was the healthy one.  Mom says he died too young, and only then does she sound sad and repeats what she has said before,” when your time is up, your time is up and there is nothing that you can do about it”.  I try to stay away from these conversations with her for there certainly is no reason to upset her more.  I’m pretty sure that the chandelier represents or symbolizes something profound about my dad, for this is something that she has spoken about several times before.  I do remember that it came with the apartment and I remember that my mother never had liked it , yet my father did.  For some reason she kept it and never bought a new one.

My dad was so easy going and yet he had wanted to keep the chandelier, so my mom left it hanging over her dining room table.  My mom has also said that she would never move and leave this chandelier.  I have explained to her that we could move it also, and she replies that it is really heavy.   I have told my mom that we would hire someone to move it and she always says,” oh no”.

 Is this chandelier my dad to her?  How meaningful it must be to her. I wonder what the chandelier represents to her?  Will I ever find out? I guess I never will and does it really matter.

My mom as the days go by in early September, 2010 seems to have so little memory left of times and places that she shared with my dad many years ago.  Memories that have just faded into the night, just like they never existed.  Yet she still has her sense of humor and wit.  I have noticed that her spelling is not as sharp and she doesn’t sing to me as much.  There still is the laughter and joy in her voice and for this I am still so thankful.  I still hear the smile on her face when I call, and when she speaks my name, I seem to melt.  

When friends ask how my mom is I still can answer she's fine, with a smile on my face.  It’s now the little things in life that are important to me.  I have learned to appreciate all the things that I had taken for granted.  And I know that with each passing day that time is not standing still, and perhaps one day my mom will not know who I am.