This one time while my mom was a bartender, she served drinks to Lou Gossett Jr., another time she served Bill Murray.
This one time my mom and I camped in the Black Hills, just a little out of the way. We pitched a tent and turned on a battery powered radio. She taught me how to Texas Two Step on the dirt road, and Boozer, her giant dog, danced along.
This one time I asked my mother if it was possible she was an alcoholic and she answered, “No.” Because, “Alcoholics have to drink at the same time every day. I can drink any time.” And she meant it.
This one time I sat biting my lip in the doctor’s office as my mother explained to him the cause for the cancer in her throat was because her tonsil had not been completely removed when she was a child. (Not, in fact, because of a lifetime of excessive drinking and smoking.)
This one time I conceded, cancer is a fucking car wreck. She lost her voice, for a while. When it came back, she didn’t come with it.
This one time I was angry at my mom for who she was. Now I’m angry she’s no longer herself. Cancer was a car wreck and Alzheimer’s sucks. This one time is now repeated, and shifted, and confused, and foggy, and real. My weaknesses are exemplified, my patience strained.
This one time I was angry when my mom lied. But she always seemed to believe the lies herself, the truth was muddy and mixed in. Now she lives it every day and this time, we’re caught, over and over we repeat.
This one time, I never knew I could long for “this one time,” again.
Love and pain, so intertwined. Thank you for sharing your story.
Yes. All that.
Oh I am sorry. What a sentence for both your mother and you. That “This one time I was angry at my mom for who she was. Now I’m angry she’s no longer herself. ” is a heartbreak. Sending you a jumbo hug.
I’ll take it – Thank you!
I’m so so sorry that you’re going through Alzheimer’s with your mom. So so hard 🙁
My mom’s dad had it and I know how heartbreaking it was for my mom to see him not know who she was, say the strangest things, and with such a different personality. Hugs and strength to you my friend.
Thank you Kristi, I keep being all serious when your other “hoppers” are so lively.
I’ll try to lighten it up soon. 🙂
I am so very sorry that you are experiencing these things. Alzheimer’s and cancer are such terrible thieves, aren’t they? I am sending you hugs and prayers. Hang in there!
Loved reading about little incidents, of one time although must admit most of them were heart wrenching 🙁
Hi Mardra: not a problem, from my perspective, for you to be serious in this post. You’ve written it from the heart, and it’s good to see how much a part of your life is your mother both in sickness and in health. Thanks for sharing.
I just saw you’re reply to Kristi before my comment. Keep doing you. I think we can heal through our writing and sharing it with other. We don’t always have to be lighthearted and lively. If I wrote heavy I’d have a post for everyday. But sometimes you just have to spill your guts. This was very poetic and artsy the way you wrote it. That aside, I am sorry to hear what you are going through.
Mardra, this is so beautifully written. Thank you for sharing so honestly here. Sending love and strength to you and your mom. And that such a lovely photo of the two of you!
Wow, such honesty here Mardra. Thanks for sharing and I hope your writing about this difficult time with your mom is helping you find your way through it.
I love the way you wrote the response to this prompt. Cancer does suck! Your words will help many find support.
Thank you for all of these lovely and encouraging comments – Yes – I share our story to help myself, also, I cannot stop myself, sometimes, and yes – I always, always hope my words can also shed a light or give comfort to others, if in no other way to show that we are all together, we are not alone.