I miss my mom. She’s not dead, but she has Alzheimers. I saw her yesterday and it was a good day. She knew who I was and when I asked her about my son, she remembered him for the first time in a while.
The last time I saw her, I thought she knew me, but she argued with my niece about who I was. She wouldn’t believe I was her daughter.
Of course I kept calling her Mom, so I think she assumed I was her daughter-in-law. When I went to the bathroom, she told my niece, “She’s an interesting lady, but I wouldn’t want to make her mad.” I got a kick out of that.
I laugh a lot about the funny things she says and does these days. She can be quite a hoot, but it is also pretty sad. I still have a mom, but yet I can’t really have a conversation with her. She can’t talk on the phone or remember anything about my life. She doesn’t know if he saw me last month or yesterday.
The loneliness of slowly losing your mom needs a special name; Nata praetereo, daughter forgotten.