this morning i was awakened by the sound of my mom’s bedroom door slamming.

when i woke up – i was confused.  not sure what was happening.  maybe even a little disoriented from the lack of sleep.  after i remembered where i was and what’s happening i sprung up from the couch and ran into the bedroom.  i found one ANGRY mama bear.  she was upright and slamming things around.  understand – she’s pretty much bed ridden at this point.  but this morning – no sir – she had gotten herself up outta bed and was stomping around her room.

here’s how it went down:

me: “ummm… what’s up mom?  you ok?”
mom:  “NO i’m not ok kenzie.  what the hell is going on here?  why the bleep did you let them move me into this hell hole?  i want my old room back.  i want 302.”
me:  “mom – this is 302.  you are in your old room.”
mom:  “no i’m not kenzie.  i’m not crazy.  open your bleeping eyes.  why am i here?  i’m perfectly fine.  i want my big room and my shower and my kitchen.”
me:  :pulls the help cord:  “mmkay – well let’s get you back into bed.”
mom:  :falls:

great.

i lifted her (as best as i could) up off the floor and onto the commode.  the cause of the angry?  homegirl had to poop.

as she sat there, doing her business, tears welled up in her eyes.  her lips curled up and pointed outward and she began to cry.  hysterically.  angry mama bear was quickly replaced with sad SAD mama bear.  and that’s pretty much where we’ve been since this morning.

she’ll come to (as much as someone who’s hopped up on morphine does) and say, “i love you kenzie.  i really really love you.”  and then she trails off and whispers some things and then i make out the very clearly whispered word, “dying.”

today – i think she gets it.  she understands and realizes what’s happening and she is SAD.  and damn it – so am i.

i’m so thankful for these moments.  i’ve been camped out on her bed all morning – her coming and going.  when she comes too – she cries.  and i cry.  it’s so hard – but so tender and heartfelt.  when i was  in high school (and even younger) we were BFFs.  then we started butting heads and we’ve completely WASTED these last 4-5 years being at each other’s throat.  i can’t count on both hands how many times i’ve looked her in the eyes and coldly asked, “do you want to die mom?  because if you don’t do “xyz” you will.”  i’ve been fighting SO hard to ward off these days – this season – that i completely lost touch with the fact that death comes for all of us – and regardless whether or not she was taking care of herself – no one gets out alive.  i am her daughter and she is my mom.  nothing changes that.

my perception of “bad” has changed daily.  i remember thinking that she was doing realllllly bad on friday.  on saturday i realized she wasn’t doing too bad.  on saturday i thought she was doing reallllly bad.  today – i realized she still wasn’t doing that bad.  each and everyday that passes i realize that she still may have a long way to go.  she’s still present.  if someone knocks on the door – she’s still very present – she opens her eyes and yells, “come in!”  just as she’s done since she moved into highgate in july.  one foot in this world – one foot in the next.

oh how i do wish i had a crystal ball.

until soon,

*m