I spoke to Mom today. To speak in 'real' tense is something of a commodity, or perhaps a garment you'd buy at a vintage store. Speaking now is speaking with silence knowing (or hoping) that she is listening. Yesterday, I heard her voice but couldn't understand her. I wanted to. Desperately. But, couldn't. Jill said she responded to "I miss you" with an "i miss you, too".
But now, all the movies and all the songs couldn't script the scenario--a daughter talking with silence. My solace is in my voice, knowing that that alone might make mom happy, might make her smile. I don't know. I can't see. I can't feel. I can't do much to help her. I rely on the silence, the deafening silence to say it's OK like she would in the past. Like the song, I'd like her to knock three times on the ceiling or twice on the pipe...
Today, I said "Hi, Mom" as I do. Diane relayed to me that she wiggled her fingers in response. I proceeded to talk with the most extreme of silence. You hesitate to breathe in case that would deafen the murmur on the other end, but still you're found wanting. I go about my day as if it's something she wants to hear. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Still, I turn to her and her day. Maybe it's something she wants to talk about, maybe it isn't. All of the above draw no response and I rely on my sisters to give me "vision".
You can write it, you can't speak it, you can't even comprehend it. And, still the days begin and new tasks are drawn...
~E
Hey Erin. I hope this isn't too mushy, but I just wanted you to know that you are missed here. Not for your care taking skills or your extra pair of helping hands, but for your person. I can't even begin to understand how difficult it must be for you to be away from your family right now, and I wish there was something I could do to make it easier. We're too far away. I want you to know that you're thought of often and that we all wait for the day when you can be back with us again. In the meantime, please take care of yourself as best as you can. I worry. You need to eat, and sleep, and do things other than work. I know that anything as normal as all of that probably feels impossible, but not doing them is only going to make you sick, in heart and body. Please don't let your worry and need to be with your family get to that point. I'll see you sooner than it seems.
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Thanks, Emily. Oh yeah, I'm ok. The transition was harsh, not going to lie, but this week is MUCH MUCH better. Now, if we can only have that upward turn for our Mom...
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E
Though it took me a long time to log i now I have done so and want to tell you that i have been with you all nnalong and will always be. i am back home after nearly ten months spent with Béa and her family. For the time being they are fine. Béa sends her best wishes to Mary and Craig, and so does Agnès. It was wonderful to know that Craig can sing again. Mary is in my thoughts all the time . It's really true that sometimes we feel like standing up to those doctors who seem to think they know everything. I am sure Mary is quite aware of all your love and I understand why she'd rather answer your questions than the doctors'.....Can you whisper to your hear that her French family wants her to get well soon? love to you all, Chris
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