“she is getting better.” that statement is confusing and continues to be a process for me. some of the family, most people, the doctors, the therapists see “better” as moving towards “normal” and seem to be moving on with their own lives. which is apparently normal. and better.
thanksgiving afternoon she said, “nothing really matters anymore. i don’t know how much longer i have here, but it really doesn’t matter.” she is not depressed; her words just come from an honest space. she is childlike, has no filter, calls it like she sees it and understands that most people are not able to take time to listen to her or understand her.
she cannot read, walk by herself, drive, have her dog, cook, make her own tea or work the stereo; she doesn’t know what to do with her phone or iPad and she has never watched much TV. she cannot knit or create. those things she did to fill her time before the stroke are just not possible anymore. she always read before she went to sleep. now she just lays there. in the morning she wanders around their home, waiting for someone to wake up. sometimes she puts a single pair of socks in the washing machine or cleans the sink or washes toothbrushes.
some people visit and talk at her because they are nervous or don’t know what to say or are afraid and think that she is “normal”; she is getting better. but, she just can’t keep up, she can’t talk in full sentences, she gets overwhelmed. she cannot explain or talk unless someone takes the time to wait for each word, each meaning, each nuance.
I feel profoundly sad….for her (although, she does seems content), for those that are missing out on being with the new her, and for myself.
I miss my mother.
I never thought I would write those words.