Poor Mom. I just peeked in at her. It is 2:30 on a lovely autumn afternoon. She's at her dressing table, rolling her hair up in a bun, still in her bathrobe. At least she's up. When I went in around noon, she was still in bed. I said, "Mom, are you going to sleep all day?"
"What reason do I have for getting up?" she replied, listlessly.
"Don't you feel well?"
"I feel fine."
"Then maybe you should get up."
"I'll think about it."
A little later, Phil found her still in bed. She said, "I feel like staying in bed all day."
Phil replied, "I think you'll feel better if you get up."
Lately she's been talking a lot about being all alone, without a home, without a family. Her parents and siblings are all gone. She seems to miss them the most these days. She rarely mentions my dad, to whom she was married for 13 years, until his death in a plane crash in 1962. She feels lost, sad, and lonely. She seems to have forgotten how and why she ended up living with us.
Phil's Aunt Cele lived to be 102. She remained cheerful and upbeat, even after a heart attack and other signs of increasing fragility. During a visit near the end of her life, she remarked, matter of factly, "You know, Philly, sometimes you can live too long."
Maybe Aunt Cele had a point. My dad is 91, and sometimes I think he thinks the same thing.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure she feels lonely, many of her friends and family gone. It must be hard on the old girl.
ReplyDeleteIt must be hard not to feel like getting out of bed in the morning, and hard to see her so sad.
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