Well I must confess...it has been more than a few months since I've posted. Mother's 86th birthday has come and gone. Dementia still insists on transforming our precious matriarch into someone who can hardly recognize her family and friends. It is a rarity to hear her call my name now. Her words have become mostly "jibberish" but still has some choice, distinguishable words thrown in; displaying that "Mema" humor we all have known and loved. Even the words to her favorite hymns are becoming aloof. The last of her beautiful white teeth, have now broken off or fallen out, leaving only stubs to chew on. I glance at her hair, fingers, nose, eyes...every bodypart, a reminder of our past life together as mother and daughter. Many times, people will ask how mother is doing. I answer, "As well as to be expected, just doesn't know us anymore." Their reply back is usually "Well, at least you still have her!" I've heard that conversation at different times and situations in my life before, just not about my own mother. Now, I actually know what it means. It has to be a selfish need though, granting it is one of love. Even if she doesn't have a clue as to where she is, or who she's with, we are still able to go visit her and can see, touch and feel our mother's body. I still want this. I do know that possibly, a time will come, when I won't.
