Lucky Dorito

There are some people in this world that you meet and connect with immediately. The writer of this *Mom-story* is one of those people for me. I first started reading at The Dad’s blog in the summer of 2006 when I was a serious blog-lurker (not a commenter at ALL!) One day, a few weeks into reading, he posted a story that moved me to tears. I thought about it for a few days, unable to QUIT thinking of it and I finally sent him an email - just to tell him how much it had moved me. (And let him know I was reading but too chicken to comment.)

It was the start of a fabulous friendship. He is a great guy and one of the few people I’ve met on the blogs that has become a true real-life friend - as in, MET in real life! When I was on a trip for work last year, he and his lovely girlfriend met me in Washington DC for dinner and lots of laughs. It was an enjoyable evening, seeing how well his real life personality and sarcasm and wit matched up with his clever writing style that I’d come to love over the previous months. What can I say? Those of us that knew him *when* can’t help but love him, right? I eagerly await the day he comes back to blogging.

*****

Hello all. The Dad here, (aka Scarecrow). For those of you who know me, I apologize for my hiatus, but I will be back sooner or later. I’m just trying to figure out how & where. For those of you who don’t know me……..you don’t know what you’re missing

Anyway, when Dory asked me to write something about my mom for her blog, I have to say I was hesitant. My mom is still around but has been a shell of the person she really was for most of my adult life. Early on, IMO, due to a hysterectomy and removal of some lymph nodes, my mom lost much of her joy of life. I’m sure there was depression, but back then, who knew what it was or even wanted to admit it. She became less gregarious and more and more a ‘home body’. Now, at 80, suffering from congestive heart failure and Alzheimer like symptoms, she is confined to the ground floor of her house, and more importantly, confined to narrow spaces of her own mind. I don’t like seeing my mom like this, nor seeing my dad deteriorate as he takes care of her. I do whatever I can, when I can, if and when they let me. But because of her current condition, and because of how her quality of life has deteriorated for so long, and because I have very little memory of my early childhood, (concussions), to begin with, I didn’t want to remember the few happy thoughts I could recollect. There are many of them but upon their reflection, and then seeing my mom today…….it just hurts. I don’t think it’s suppose to, but it does. But…here goes……

There is one memory that comes to me many times. Anytime at night, when one of my girls is hurt, or scared, or sick, or just overtired, I lie down next to them and rub their back or belly until they fall asleep. My mom use to do this to me in the same instances. (She also would sing or hum something while doing it, but my kids ask me to stop singing as soon as I start.) I even found myself over the last couple years thinking of this while lying alone in my bed on those nights when my own demons would haunt me. It’s still a very comforting feeling. I can picture my room growing up. I can picture my mom sitting next to me rubbing my chest singing a lullaby. I couldn’t fall asleep because my head was pounding. Earlier in the day, I was hit by a car while riding my bike and fractured my skull, (my first concussion). With my mom by my side each night after, rubbing my chest, singing to me, she helped get my mind off of the pain and eased me into sleep. Later on, whether I had a headache or not, I would use it as an excuse for the attention. I’m sure she caught on, but she still did it.

So now I do it for my girls. It’s the only real way I can repay her. I would love to be able to do something for her. To take away her pain. To make her comfortable. To maybe help her remember things. To bring back her quality of life.

Mom….I love you.

S

“Mother is the name for God

on the lips and hearts of all children.”

Eric Draven -The Crow

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