If you have been reading this blog regularly, then you know my mom was hospitalized about two months ago, and once she got out, she headed to Texas to stay with my little brother and his family. Up until that time, Jordan and I spent a night or two at my mom's about every other week. Today, we drove to Indiana County, where she lives (lived) for the first time since.
It felt weird to drive on those roads again after that hiatus. I was at once sad thinking about how long it had been and comforted by the familiarity. But I was not going to see my mom; rather, we were headed to spend a few hours with some cousins followed by dinner at an aunt and uncle's (they all live in the same town Mom did/does).
Between destinations, I decided we might as well stop by Mom's house to "check on things," something that probably was not necessary since my aunt had just been there a day or two before.
As we neared Mom's house, I noticed the car of a neighbor whom Jordan and I knew well. Much like Mom, we saw this neighbor, Marilyn, and her dog Sweetie Bud fairly often. In fact, Marilyn told us that Sweetie Bud would often stare out the window looking for our car. Marilyn always knew when we were visiting Mom because Sweetie Bud would sit at the window and bark incessantly, sometimes letting up only when we came over.
Seeing that car and knowing Marilyn was home made this trip a little easier. We spent about 10 minutes catching up and having Sweetie Bud jump all over us. Then we walked the few doors down to Mom's and headed inside.
Nothing terrible happened when I opened the door. I did not cry, which is actually a big feat for me, considering I cry about so many silly things. I looked around, and had I not known better, I might have thought my mom was out just for the afternoon.
But of course she is not. And for a moment, I wanted to turn back time and have her there as she had been for several years. I wanted to hear one of her standard greetings: "Let's just go out for lunch" or "Let's run to the grocery store."
I hate change, as I have written and said so many times before. I miss going to my mom's so often. I just miss my mom in general. But we can't stop change. And we certainly can't stop time.
But I am hopeful it will be okay.
It felt weird to drive on those roads again after that hiatus. I was at once sad thinking about how long it had been and comforted by the familiarity. But I was not going to see my mom; rather, we were headed to spend a few hours with some cousins followed by dinner at an aunt and uncle's (they all live in the same town Mom did/does).
Between destinations, I decided we might as well stop by Mom's house to "check on things," something that probably was not necessary since my aunt had just been there a day or two before.
As we neared Mom's house, I noticed the car of a neighbor whom Jordan and I knew well. Much like Mom, we saw this neighbor, Marilyn, and her dog Sweetie Bud fairly often. In fact, Marilyn told us that Sweetie Bud would often stare out the window looking for our car. Marilyn always knew when we were visiting Mom because Sweetie Bud would sit at the window and bark incessantly, sometimes letting up only when we came over.
Seeing that car and knowing Marilyn was home made this trip a little easier. We spent about 10 minutes catching up and having Sweetie Bud jump all over us. Then we walked the few doors down to Mom's and headed inside.
Nothing terrible happened when I opened the door. I did not cry, which is actually a big feat for me, considering I cry about so many silly things. I looked around, and had I not known better, I might have thought my mom was out just for the afternoon.
But of course she is not. And for a moment, I wanted to turn back time and have her there as she had been for several years. I wanted to hear one of her standard greetings: "Let's just go out for lunch" or "Let's run to the grocery store."
I hate change, as I have written and said so many times before. I miss going to my mom's so often. I just miss my mom in general. But we can't stop change. And we certainly can't stop time.
But I am hopeful it will be okay.
Comments
I generally do not like change…I am a creature of habit. It will be okay. It’s not much conciliation but always remember what she (your Mom) taught you. How she made you a better person and what she might do in certain situations. It will be okay…it will.