Mom and I used to share everything. One of the best things we shared was our annual trip to Colfax, Washington, more than 350 miles east of Longview, where I grew up on the family farm. We both got to go back home.
For weeks before our trip, we'd talk about what we'd like to see and who we'd like to see and who we'd like to avoid. A few days before we left, we would start fishing out our Eastern Washington clothes, anticipating warm, sunny weather. The night before our departure, neither one of us could sleep because of the excitement we felt. Both of us would awaken at dawn and be on the road, taking in the scenery and talking the whole way.
All of this has changed and it's really hit me hard.
When I tried to talk with Mom about the trip this year, she became upset and at one point actually cried. For a while, I didn't know if she should even go, but I was determined, because this might be the last time she's able to go.
Mom was always so good about helping me get ready and even helping carry light things to the car. Not this year. She didn't even offer to help. I don't think she knew what was going on, why I was packing her clothes and why we were leaving. She kept asking if someone was staying with Gigi and I kept reassuring her that Gigi was going with us. The only thing she did as I packed the car and suitcases was hold on tight to Gigi.
Once we were on the road, she didn't talk at all, except to say if she was hot or cold. She just looked out the window, a blank expression on her face.
When we got to Colfax, I really don't think she knew where we were. When Mom stayed in a motel, she always unpacked, putting her underwear in the dresser and hanging up her clothes in the closet. She didn't even offer to do that this time. She didn't like pawing through her suitcase to find a blouse, but she didn't want to hang anything up either. I don't think she recognized anyone we saw. We ran into a very dear friend at the cemetery, someone I have known my whole life, and Mom didn't know her. We spent time with a lot of friends and I don't think she knew any of them. We met someone at the little Farmington cemetery, and Mom didn't know where she was or why we were there. She just walked the dog among the tombstones and really didn't try to visit. We drove to the top if Steptoe Butte and we could see for miles, but Mom thought it was cold and told my friend who accompanied us that she didn't like it up there. Mom used to love going there.
Although I had such a good time seeing family (well, at least some family) and friends and I feel so blessed to have gotten to spend time with them, it was so hard on me to see Mom like this. When Martha asked her about the trip, now Mom barely remembers going, let alone the people we saw and places we went.
That's what makes me sad. During some moments of the trip, I think Mom had a good time. She will not remember any of it, but in those moments, she liked what she was doing. I must keep reminding myself of that, that right now, Mom lives in the moment.
Still makes me sad though. In the past, on the way back from Colfax, we would talk about everything we did and everyone we saw. We would share our feelings about being away from home, how good the farms look where we used to live and how much we miss them. I am not able to do that now. All that sharing is gone.
It makes me realize how much I'm losing as Mom leaves me. And that she's leaving me little by little.
When I got home, I saw where a friend's Mom had passed away, so I'm planning another trip, this time to Tillamook, for another memorial service. I just feel like God is preparing me for when Mom has to leave me.
God is so good to me and I try to remember to thank Him every day for all the blessings He's giving me.
