Friday, November 26, 2010

On Not Talking to Mother

My mother has been my irreplaceable confidant. I am so lonely for her: the mother of my past, of her younger days, the mother of our conversations, and the mother of all talkers! Now the words are few that she can utter.

Oddly, I want to tell my mother about my mother's demise. I keep wanting to pick up the phone to "call Mom" about this new beguiling anguish: Mom's dying. Mom had heard most all my other complaints, laments, yearnings, hopes, frustrations--and (far fewer) joys. Now the listening ear and the speaking voice are receding, retreating, leaving me alone. in the hospice, I can tell her I love her; read Scripture to her; touch her. But I cannot "talk to Mom" any more... Not yet.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful post. Others of us can only imagine the sort of pain and loss that you describe so well. However, I do have friends that suffer from chronic illnesses; I watched MS take away a really advanced thinking mentor I had in my teens. There's no explanation that we can venture for it, nor do I think it's our place to do so. (Could we even understand all the variables if described to us?)

    I eagerly await the resurrection...