Haiku about My Mom (3)

You know when you get an image, or a moment in time, or a piece of a conversation, just a little smidgen of a day get tucked in your brain, and then it comes to the surface days, maybe weeks, later? Sometimes it makes you laugh. But, I have one that puts me on the brink of tears. I have been tucking it back every time it surfaces. I told my sisters briefly about it. I used very little words, and I felt my nose start that itchy feeling I get when I'm just about to cry. I just said at the end, "That was rather sad hearing her say that." And that is the last I've confronted it, until today. It's been popping in and out of my consciousness all day. It's time to release it.

Last week my mom had an appointment with her neurologist, a checkup on how she's doing dementia-wise. For a few minutes, I had to remember where the office was. Mom told me where she thought it was and I knew that wasn't it. I found the address and we left. I told Mom, "It's right across the street from the hospital." But, Mom insisted it was not, so I drove her to where she said it was located and she saw that it was her allergist office instead. She didn't say anything and we went to her appointment. Afterward, we had to go back to the allergist for something that is another story all together. On the way home, we passed the neurologist's office and Mom said, "There is Dr. Yukki's office. I can walk from my house, just go on Cherry Street...." "Yes, Mom," I say to her. She says "See, honey, I can remember." And those five words have been haunting me since. 

Gardenia-one of my mother's favorites.

This evening I write a haiku, inspired by my mother's words, which she uttered to assure herself, more than me, that in that "bad" moment, she indeed can still remember. 

Struggling to find

that fact, which is hidden deep,

to prove I still can. 

Haiku for My Mother (2)

Sometimes, something will occur that you don't plan, and your whole life changes--perhaps even your whole being changes. Your day to day life changes. Your plans for the future changes. Your outlook on a person changes. Your explanations as to why things are changes. Your emotional state changes. This last bit--the emotional changes I want to address today. Sometimes, something happens and you perhaps become a little sadder. You hope the sadness will weaken. But, perhaps what really happens is that you start getting use to living with that bit of sadness added onto your emotional map. And, of course, this could happen with joy, pride, frustration, any emotion that is so strongly. 

I'm going to stick with sadness, because I've been experiencing that of late. Today my mom and I went to a grocery to quickly pick up dinner stuff for my family. My mom followed me around and did not venture on her own like she use to years ago. I had to repeat my directions to her about the rotisserie chicken. That she could just pick it up and take it. But, she looked at it, until I picked it up and placed it in her cart. There was also a confusing conversation about her wanting a salad, but at the end she did get what she wanted, which was potato salad.  A month ago, I would have been frustrated, chalking it up to her not wearing her hearing aides again.  But, today it made me sad. Knowing what I know now, from what I learned about my mom last week Monday, I realize this could be due to something that cannot be fixed by something like hearing aides. You see, we found out that Mom's brain has "characteristics that point to dementia". It makes the confusing conversations, the inability to keep her attention on our talks, her occasionally forgetting what we told her two days ago, so much more severe.  It's so sad to think of losing Mom this way---not in body, but in mind. This is a bit of sadness that has been added to my emotional map that won't ever be lifted. I will have to live with it. 

Today, I write my haiku to celebrate my mom and her wonderful self.

She loves her gardens,

bargains, coffee, crocheting.

And her family.