Its hard to celebrate her birthday, May3 and Mother's Day this weekend because there is little to feel grateful for sometimes. She is here, with us, its true. But, she is not with us, and wishes that she could, "go home", as she asks so often.
I am baking a lemon cake. She likes lemon. And there are yellow flowers at the kitchen table.
This weekend we have trimmed her finger nails and toe nails, put on a new spring top and fresh washed jeans. Her hair has grown long and is pulled back into a pony tail.
This morning, at breakfast, I asked her how many children she had. She said, "18".
And, partially she is right, as she babysat so many children throughout her life.
She was known as "Aunt Pat", and the kids, who are now grown adults, remember her fondly.
I told her the names of her five children. She smiles, and looks at me like I am funny. But, she does not know what I'm talking about. I asked her if she knew which one I was, she said, "foo foo". This is not unusual.
Dad said he thinks she is getting better. What he means is that her skin, feet and nails are looking good. We used to worry because they were blueish, and very hot, or puffy, or scaly.
He is commending us (he and I) for the job we are doing, and trying to say this is much better care than she would receive elsewhere. He's probably right. But he needs some respit.
She is eating a little and sleeping a lot.
But, we will celebrate Mother's Day, and have a piece of cake with her.
I'm am grateful she is here.
