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  • Writer's pictureLickety Glitz

"C'mon" she said and took my hand.

Updated: Feb 10, 2021

I am disgusted with myself. I am hungover. I am tired. I am a mess from a marathon session of unaccompanied debauchery the night before that lasted in to the wee hours of the morning. MotherMinder's mid-day departure is the only thing that rouses me from the bed covers. I make the transition from loathing myself horizontally to loathing myself upright.


Despite my foreboding her weekly shower has gone well; the stress for us both has dissipated. She is clean, she is dressed, she is ready for whatever day dementia will allow her.


I turn from her to make the bed then suddenly crumple on to it. I fight a shudder I cannot contain as it overtakes me. Unbidden tears cascade down my cheeks as my face contorts to embrace the sobs I am trying to quell.

I look up as she stands over me, "I don't know what I'm doing, Mom!" I know my eyes are pleading for motherly empathy for my plight or a motherly scolding for my self-indulgence - I could count on either reaction a decade ago.


I see her eyes cloud with sorrow, desperately searching for a maternal response. It's as if I'm watching a movie - "Old" Mom pushing through the crushingly dense fog of her brain, seeking her motherly instincts, fighting for purchase to break free and employ them. It is there, on the tip of her brain...


She knows she used to know what to do, but now hopelessly grasps at thin air. This crying person needs her, a person she suspects she loves, but she cannot comprehend what action, what words will comfort.

I understand in an instant I have plunged her into misery.


I look down to pull myself together, and look back up at her with an expression I hope is a smile but instead feels like an upturned grimace of pain.


No matter. "Now" Mom has come to her rescue, relieving "Old" Mom of the burden of memories she can no longer access, of emotions she can no longer express, of situations she can no longer react to.


I've never been so grateful to see "Now" Mom in my life.


"Now" Mom's eyes are free of trouble, my sorrows cease to drain her.


Instead, "C'mon" she says and takes my hand.



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4 Comments


Lickety Glitz
Lickety Glitz
Feb 09, 2021

I always appreciate your support, Dem, always, always, always. I will always try and "hear" you too.

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Dem Who
Dem Who
Feb 08, 2021

Hi Lickety, I hadn't read this and it made me reread your apathy and despair piece. Somehow I missed the content in both, picking up on the laughs and those areas where we connected but I didn't "hear" your words as I hear them now. After reading this I felt overwhelmingly sad. You need to forgive yourself, not loathe yourself. You know drinking can only help so much (my goto is food) but we never feel great afterwards, but until we can feel better on the outside ( I know that I'm going keep going back to it my crutch).


Being overwhelmed in the moment as everything just suddenly hits you is awful, but crying it out helps a little,…


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Lickety Glitz
Lickety Glitz
Feb 07, 2021

I should take a break, but right now that seems like one more thing I don't wanna figure out. I'll pull it together, nk, with the help of your love, light, and all the virtual hugs. Thank you.

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nkvaughn
Feb 06, 2021

Oh, Lickety. You need a break. The depth of your care is obvious but the weight is heavy. Any chance you could get away, even for a few days? I think right now your heart and your head are locked in battle as one tries to get you through the tasks at hand, overshadowing the other as it crumples in pain. You need time to recharge and to prepare yourself even though there really is no amount of prep that will ever be enough.


I send you love, light and many, many virtual hugs. You are doing one of the hardest things any human being who loves another can decide to do.

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