My parents house is dark and quiet except for the little orange night light on the kitchen table.
There's a couple of inches of fresh white fluffy snow .....creating this insulated.....womb-like feeling.....around the house.
My dad's wind chimes play sweetly outside the window......such pretty music seems to belong to summer instead of a cold winter night.
My parent's made it....they are safe and sound in a facility near my house....but my dad is not very responsive.....talk of physical
therapy and speech therapy maybe just talk....not reality.
My dad is aware of people for short periods of time during the day ...he squeezes my hub's and son's hands.....and tries to say something with a mouth that will not obey him.
My mother is bored and wants to take a "streetcar" home....she has two quarters in her purse and constantly tries to bum another quarter from the staff so she can hit the road.
I feel like a thousand pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders....now that my parents are secure...but there is still so much to do .....with the house .....and the stuff of 40 years.....that I curl up mentally and wonder if it will all be settled some day.
I'll be here for a couple more days before I head down south....their finances ....such a mess I need a few more business days to visit banks and other financial institutions.
I have spent the entire day
de-trashing my parent's kitchen....but I'm only half done .....with many more
cabinets to explore.
My parents saved everything. In a dainty tea cup, I found my mom's hospital admission ID bracelets from 6 years ago......a large coffee mug stored every extra button from every blouse or shirt for years........6 giant soup ladles and 10 casserole dishes were cramped in another
cabinet...even though my mother never cooked.
I talked to my cousin in Tampa, Florida tonight. She called my mother frequently.....between my story of my parents and other people's stories of my parents.....I am beginning to piece together who they were and how they lived their life...you would think a child would know their parents.....but that's not always the case.
My cousin tells me my mom cried and told her I never called and visited her.....I tell my cousin how my mother in two years never phoned me and how she told me not to visit her.....My cousin says my mother wondered why I hated her.... I tell my cousin I wonder why my mother hated me.....
I visit a friend of my parents to update her on their status..... she grabs my hand and tells me she has kept a secret for my mother for many years.
"You know your mom and I have been friends since kindergarten."
"Yes yes..."
"Well I'm going to be 88 in March"
I'm not sure why she is telling me this....until a bell rings and the logic part of my brain says....if my mother and her friend attended kindergarten together they are the same age.
"You're 88????"
"Yes ......and so is your mother."
"What?"
"But all her records say she's 80......all her documents say the same birth year."
"Your mother was clever and fixed them. This was before computers....you could hide things. She never wanted you or anyone to know your father had married an older woman. That's why you're an only child....your mother had you late in life."
"But...but...so what if she is older?"
"It was important to her..... even your own family kept quiet about it."
My mother 88 years old.
She looks damn good.....and always has......
I'm confused but.... it explains a lot.....my mother's constant irrational fear my dad would leave her for a younger woman....the thousands of jars of face creams......a basement full of exercise machines before any one had exercise machines.
My cousin warns me I will find out
a lot of things about my parents.....she is ten years older than I am.....and perhaps knows more........there's a long pause between us .......she adds nothing.
It seems like my parents and I have switched places....they are safe and secure now......and I am the one who is disoriented and faltering.
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