So, I went to see Mom again on Wednesday. She’s doing very well, outside of the paralyzed voice box. There’s one round of chemo left, and then radiation treatment starts.
There was a rather surreal moment during this visit, when she was talking about how well she’s doing. She said that her oncologist, while he won’t come right out and say it with any real certainty, seems to be “optimistic” that she’ll probably have two more years. Then she said, “That’s all I want. I satisfied with two years.”
It still feels very strange to talk to my mother about her death. Even though it looks as good as it can possibly look right now, there’s a finite amount of time left. By that I mean, we have knowledge of the approximate amount of time she has left to live. Talking about this with her feels more “unreal” to me than anything else. It’s difficult, yes, but it’s more surreal than anything.
I know that this is the natural way of things. Children are born, they grow up, and they reach adulthood; as they do this, their parents age, grow older and older, and eventually die. While I’m coming to terms with being able to talk about it, I still feel torn sometimes. There is a part of me that wishes I didn’t have to talk about it with her. That she would simply be healthy again, and one day cross over with no warning, for no other reason than she had aged to the point where it was time.
That’s not the situation. She has a disease, and we know about it. It’s killing her, and we need to talk about it with each other. I never knew that there could be so much to say, and such a relatively short amount of time to say it.
At the same time, I’m more grateful than I can say that I have this time to say what I need to say to her. I feel like I’m living a paradox. But then, human beings are nothing, if not paradoxical.
So, I plug along, visiting Mom, talking with her, and we both do and say what we need to. For now, I’m grateful that I don’t have to start picking up the phone and calling people, telling them to come because time is short. My daughter called me yesterday, to ask after her grandmother; she wanted to be sure that Grandma was up to a phone call. It was such a huge relief to me to be able to tell her that her grandmother is doing well, and that a phone call would be really welcome right now.
It will be an ongoing process here. One that I hope and pray that I’ll be capable of coping with relatively well…
