(I welcome guest blogger, a dear friend and brother in the faith, Mike Mazzochetti who shares the following blog post.)
Yes, my Mom took care of me from my youth, sorted out my relationships and situations as needed, dealt with my behaviors, and offered guidance until I was on my own as a young adult.
Once when I was in my mid-20s my Mom said to me, the oldest of 3 siblings, that she was sad that she was not a mother any longer. I assured her that I needed a Mom as any 26-year old could have. Once a Mom, always a Mom!
I carried on in career development, and then marriage with 3 sons of our own. The years went by as my Mom was in and out at different times in the normal course of events. Along that journey my Dad died when I was 38. She was a young widow herself as she struggled with loneliness and finding her way. I did not offer her any special attention as she enjoyed family with her 7 grandchildren and found a way to cope with a certain set of friends. Eventually, she dated a widower whom she knew from her youth, so we were delighted she was with someone we could trust until his death a few years ago.
We grew up in a household that was the center of activity. Friends and family members were a continual source of visiting. Food and drink were always plentiful as we had fun with my parents' fiends and their children. My Mom and Dad never really had to go out, so you knew where to find them. But over time, she, being the youngest of her friends, saw them die one-by-one to just a handful remaining.
In the last few years as her arthritis advanced, sustained a broken hip, and experienced mounting internal ailments, she quietly withstood this onset of age with strength and little complaint, unless you ask her! As the executor of her will, I have had to help her with financial decisions. I laugh now, but it has been so frustrating to deal with a multitude of fragmented accounts as a separate "envelope system" for her expenditures - one for house repairs, another for grocery and monthly expenses, a third so she can cash checks with a known teller, yet another where she had a credit card, and so on. She lives on her own and has a helper whom she has known for years, attending to her 3 days a week, doing the laundry, and grocery shopping. I visit her 2 or 3 days a week to pay some bills and take care of some household tasks amid the conversation.
Why do I tell you these things?
What is most beneficial is that I call her each day, even when I am to visit. This gives me a chance to assess how she is doing and what she needs - some days she feels better than others. This phone conversation is focused as we give undivided attention in just a few minutes to anticipate the actions for the day.
I pause at this because I find in my heart the reason to care. I realize we are in relationship and not just a needs provider. When I am there, I hear her thoughts and sense her emotions as I note her problem solving skills. Is this easy? No, as I can be testy or stand-offish with her idiosyncrasies! She has hearing deficiencies as I need to repeat myself, not always being patient. When she has a restless night, she sadly is incoherent in speech or cannot count money properly. When she struggles with the remote for the TV or navigating her smart phone, I do my best to teach her watching her steps - again hopefully with patience! I applaud her when she cooks a meal, or bakes cookies, or mops a portion of the floor - things she likes to do that make her feel productive - but learning that she needs her rest to take on the next day.
When she was young and I was a child, she took care of my needs - but I know now she was in relationship with me. She is the "other woman" in my life. We have each other in relationship of giving and receiving, caring and sharing - building on vulnerability. I love you, Mom! I know you say the same to my brother, sister, and me.
She's lucky to have you and you are lucky to have her.
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