Mum just left to fly home after spending a week with me. I'm glad she made the effort to come here because I know it was an activity out of her comfort zone. She needed to know that I am well even going through chemo. I needed to know that she was well too. Although she doesn't walk so well these days. Physically we were fairly even in our abilities, both hobbling around like cartoon wind up characters!
It's interesting to me that we are so different now. Intimate strangers really. She has progressed along a road that I can't navigate with her. She lives in the past and in regret. I wonder if she's happy? She sees life as something to endure while I still see life as an adventure that I can't get enough of. She tells stories of people and places long gone. I wish she'd record them as they are a thread that will get lost with her passing in this modern life. She keeps herself isolated into memories now. They are her comfort. She has become a child, talking constantly to belong.
I wish for her to belong to herself and not be so fretful about others in her sphere. Everything bothers her equilibrium. How do you navigate age when the world around you changes so fast? Especially if you live a rural life without things like computers and mobile phones. She doesn't trust the future the way our generation does. We want to suck the marrow out of it (of course, using it up in the process), just as I'm sure the ones coming up behind us will want us to move aside before we're ready to go!