I miss my mom more than words can say. Although it’s been years since I was able to talk to her, I am still not okay with it. Sometimes, I just wish I could call her. I want to talk about everything going on with me. I want someone to listen and tell me that it’s going to be okay, that this disease isn’t the end of the world, that I can get through everything I’m dealing with, that I will get better. I want my mommy!
Alzheimer’s is a cruel, cruel disease. It took my mother from me five years ago and it has taken my aunt from me. Although my aunt is still alive, it’s been over 2 years since she recognized me or the kids. It started with strange behaviors and mild forgetfulness and progressed to knowing nothing at all. Damn Alzheimer’s.
My mother and I had our rough times, particularly during my teenage years. We didn’t always see eye to eye. In fact, I moved out and have lived on my own since I was 14. (I was pregnant by 15 and I was definitely not a good kid.) But, she still loved me. I see that all so clearly now. We made our peace before she got sick, thankfully, but I hate all those wasted years. I wish I could go back and tell my teenage self to cherish things better, to love my family more, and to realize that I don’t know everything.
I am the oldest member of my family now. All grandparents, aunts, uncles, and my mother and father are gone. It seems so strange sometimes to be 37 and not have an elder to turn to. No wise grandpa to offer advice. No loving grandmother to teach me family recipes. No father to run to when times are tough. No mom to give support when I’m feeling down and depressed. Just me and my sister.
Recently, my sister and I watched some home movies from when we were little. We had such a good childhood. I just wish I had treasured it then like I do now. I hope that my children have as many good memories of their childhood as I do mine. My mother wasn’t perfect, but she was perfectly my mother and I miss her.