Day 11 - 354 Days to go

I walked today with my friend, Gretchen.  We walked through two of my favorite neighborhoods - Denver Country Club and Cheeseman Park catching up on our lives and families.  Gretchen is one of the people in this world that I really admire.  She is an amazing wife and mother to five children and is a wonderful friend.  Her volunteer experience is impressive and now she has started a website called MidChix www.midchix.com.  If you are a woman over 40, check it out. 

I think there is a reason Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest.  Greg worked on the laundry room (this is week 3 of this project) so I decided to work in the garage.  Half of our garage is filled with my mom's things from her house.  They have been there since last summer when we moved her to a nursing home.  I sorted through 3 boxes quickly and then started on the fourth box.  It was full of papers, report cards, baby shoes, pictures, and letters.  I found a couple of letters my mom wrote to my dad in 1956 (I was born in 1964).  I found every letter and postcard I wrote to my mom when I lived in Switzerland, England, and Wales.  I found pictures of my cousin Audrey whose funeral is tomorrow.  I found a military picture of my Uncle Eddie who died soon after I was born.  Finding all that stuff took me almost two hours and most of my energy.  Greg asked me what I hope to find by going through the boxes.  I told him I want to find proof of my mom's love for me.  He said, "you already know that," and he is right.  Still, sorting through her lifes' belonging feels like the right thing to do.  All day I had this overwhelming desire to call her and talk to her.  I started thinking back to the last time I could call her.  It was before she started taking care of my Grandpa in 1997.  We still chatted, but taking care of Grandpa took all of her time and energy and eventually health.  In 2003, my mom moved Grandpa back to the reservation.  When she came back, she was a different person.  I thought she was upset about moving Grandpa, but now I realize that she was never the same after that and I wonder if she had a stroke. 

It's great that she lives so close and I can see her as much as possible.  I feel very thankful that the dementia is not so bad yet; that she still knows who I am and is happy to see me.  Every day I see her, spend time with her, hug her, I appreciate that time.   Still, I can't help but miss my mom.