Where would I be without my
mother? I shudder to think what my life would have been like these past two
years without her unwavering support. At night when we watch our soaps or one
of our favorite shows I will reach out my hand to touch her rheumatic one and
just look at her and say “I love you”. Sometimes it is the other way around and
she is the one who reaches out first but always we are in sync with each other.
Well, now, that isn’t quite true!
It’s lovely to be sentimental but when it comes to certain topics we can be at
odds with each other. I can get quite severe with her and my siblings will
sometimes admonish me for being too hard on her but I tell them “no, she is
perfectly compus mentus and I won’t
let her get away with thinking that she can say such things”. In her old age she has become very
territorial and protective of her native land and her sister can wind her up
pretty good by retelling news stories about the abuse of refugees in the country.
I can listen to them once or twice but not 50 times at which point I get snarky
and tell her “Mom, you aren’t living in Denmark, you are in Canada and it isn’t
relevant to us”.
Of course I know it is but I have
to tone her down some way. But she is feisty. She will begin again the next
day, and the next, and . . . . Mothers,
what can you do with them but love them?
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