In 1985

In 1985, my mom was 5 yrs. older than I am now. She died on Mother’s Day – so a day I’ll never forget –  4 yrs. ago, 9 days before she would have turned 85, so she would have turned 90 this year. wow, I can hardly envision that. I’m so glad I threw her a party for her 80th birthday, which I guess then would have been in 2005; hard to believe what happened just a short month after that, but explains why I didn’t get to be there (just like didn’t get to be there for the one she threw for my dad’s 80th either) but so glad to have found the lady who you could get to come set up one for you (through my oldest son; was a former girlfriend’s mom) and invited all her friends, like mom did for dad – they were so glad and surprised. So glad she got to enjoy it before her health started to really begin to decline the next year – maybe because of what did happen that I hate and feel so guilty for. Even if she had already gotten the Bell’s Palsy that she didn’t really get over, left with residual facial damage (that later on caused the ER people to think she’d recently had a stroke). Somehow was thinking she’d already retired by then but guess not. That was the year I met my husband. But she was still active then; she and her cousin were out pulling an old trunk out of an old barn when she saw – or at least thought she did – a snake and jumped back and crushed her heel, then another time somehow fell (but in an elderly way) or maybe even jumped off their back porch (not too high) and crushed her elbow but she was still able to handle those type things then. Not like later when she fell down the steps (must higher and steeper, because realized then had been built wrong) of new house they’d moved to and scraped all up her leg and wasn’t able to handle things so well; that was the last time she did laundry for her church. Her hair’d begun to thin; she hated that so bad. And she just didn’t have the shine to her eyes any more. My dad was 7 yrs. older than her. He passed away in January of this year; mom dying 4 yrs. ago really did something to him; up until then he lived to take care of her, still mowed his own yard, knew who I was and all but after he lost her, he would begin to think I was her. Especially after his baby sister died about 2 yrs. before him; after mom died he took on the role – probably again – of taking care of her, making sure he went to see about her every week when he went to the grocery. But he’d still call out mom’s name. “Lizbeth!” That last year before she died she stayed in bed so much he worried about her so. He never thought she’d leave him; he needed to know she hadn’t. And all she wanted was for him to not leave her; guess she got her wish, but don’t think she ever realized how lost he’d be without her. Really, to be honest, I don’t think any of the rest of us did but then we never thought we’d ever have to find out either. (more later)

About donnainthesouth

I'm a transplant, born up north but raised in the middle, now I'm down here where you don't see too many snowflakes; I'll probably post just about as often (here at least)
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