My mother is 82 years old. She is quite beautiful for her age and has a heart of gold. She is typical of most mothers in the fact the her children can do no wrong. Her mind is still as sharp as a tac, but her hearing is fading. I know this because when I talk to her she acts like she hears me, but when she answers me it is a totally different subject. Not to mention that later on she will bring up what I had already been talking about earlier. And I also find that more and more I have to tell her the same things over and over. It takes a lot of patience sometimes.
We are very close. We haven't always been close. When Daddy was alive I was closer to him. I was Daddy's girl. I believe that a lot times me and Mother competed for Daddy's attention. But after Daddy died, I slowly began to move towards her and appreciate her for the mother she is.
Mother thinks we are still little children that she has to take care of. I have to be careful not to talk to Mother about my financial situation unless I am being positive about it. Otherwise, a check will come in the mail or when I leave her house money will be stuffed down into my purse. She is on SS so she doesn't have a lot. But what she has she will gladly give to her children.
Mother stood by me through the worst of my addiction. I have wished many times that I did not put her through all those horrible days and nights. Some of them were really bad. She would cry and beg me to get help. And I would not. I would scream and yell at her. It got so bad she wouldn't have anything to do with me. She discovered tough love. That was a bitch at first. But I finally got help. Even though I haven't forgotten all the stuff I put her through, she has. In fact, I think she loves me more. I guess one of the reasons is that my recovery has helped me see how much I love her and how much she loves me.
Mother gets so excited about spending time with me or any of her kids. The week after I move I am going to get her and let her stay with me for a week. I wont let her come to the trailer park. I am afraid it will make her sad to see where I live. I told her I wanted her to come to my new place about a month ago. I talk to her every day and every day she talks about coming and asks how many days until I move. (Just like a kid isn't it?) She has so many plans about what she is going to cook and how many plants we are going to put out on my patio.
There was a time in my life when a week with Mother would not have been considered. I am glad that it is not like that now.