This has been a nice day. A stressful one, but it's over and it's time to relax. It was all fine until my Mother reverted back to my high school days, came to my room and made a motion with her arms like an umpire calling a runner out at base.
"Get 'em outta here!" she yelled.
The dogs? I wondered, looking around to see what the hell they could have done to incur such wrath from her.
"I saw those two boys, now get them out of here NOW!"
I was stunned. "Knock yourself out", I say as she goes from room to room looking for errant visitors.
I felt steam building up inside of a now teenage version of me being scolded... and I say something about "...I'm a grownasswoman, almost 60 fucking years old and if I wanted to have "boys" over to vist, by God, "boys" would be visiting."
It's the second time she's said something like that to me in the past year.
She's 87. She has dementia. We always had a very rocky relationship I must admit but when she suddenly found herself alone in 2005 I left my husband and my daughter and moved 85 miles away to stay with her for a little while and here I remain. As much as we never got along I could not in good conscious let her stay by herself nor could I move her someplace else. Almost like a cruel joke the gods are playing on me or is it a chance for us to finally reconcile?
It's getting harder to live with my Mother and I cry tonight because she makes me mad and I cry because I'm sorry she's not well and I cry of what could have been and what never was.
"Boys" in the house. Maybe she'll apologize to me tomorrow and tell me that she's sorry for saying something so ludicrous.
Pity party is officially over. Thanks for listening. xoxo
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