Mom Club

Here's a picture of my newborn self with my Mom and two sisters. Mom looks tired and pale, but she looks happy. And I think this might be the one and only picture where my sisters look pleased that I exist. I would also like to add there there were two photos taken from this sitting. In the other photo, I was completely cross-eyed. A sign of my budding personality, I think.

As a little one, thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd often ask my parents the same question. My Dad would say that he wanted to be a pilot. The first time he told me, I heard it as "pirate". I was understandably disappointed. When I asked my Mom, she would say without hesitation that she wanted to be a Mom. That was her dream job.

And here I sit on bed rest at nearly 36 weeks pregnant. I could have this baby boy at any time now. That idea fills me with a random collection of emotions that I have a hard time describing. The decision to become a Mom was not an easy one for me, and it took me a while to get there. Sometimes I wish I was entering into this new career without hesitation and with the certainty that my Mom had. I wish that I could talk to her about becoming a Mom.

But, then I think most of her wisdom she's already passed on by example. I've had about 30 years to observe an expert - I need to work on having some faith that Mom has already instilled in me the things I need to know to become a good Mom.

However, there are two things I know for certain: I'm looking forward to joining the Mom Club, and I can't wait to meet this little guy.

Who's Johnny?

The Alzheimer's seems to be taking over more and more. To me, it seems Mom's decline in the past two months has been more than in the past two years. It's been scary to see the rapid progression, but also not that surprising. Dad suspects that one of the study drugs she was on with the Mayo was doing more to slow the progression than we thought. (They recently stopped the study due to some undisclosed side effects.)

The biggest change I have noticed with Mom is all of her chattering. A few months ago, time spent with her was mostly spent in silence. Any efforts to engage her in conversation were usually unsuccessful. She would respond with a one word answer, or with a response that had no relevance to the question at all. My feelings are that she was very aware of her Alzheimer's and its limitations on her conversational skills, and she preferred to not talk to save herself the struggle and embarrassment.

But now? Now she talks all the time. She chatters on about all sorts of things: what she sees, colors, the earth, babies, and "Johnny." Most of what she says doesn't make much sense, and often if you try to engage her on one of those topics, it doesn't really go anywhere. She seems to be hallucinating almost all of the time now. And not only does she talk about "Johnny", she talks to him. Sometimes she'll even call Dad Johnny.

So, I asked her recently: "Mom, who's Johnny?"

She just shrugged and laughed, "You know, I'm not really sure. But I think he's a playboy."

And that made me laugh, too. It was a rare moment where I could laugh at the Alzheimer's. It doesn't seem to bother her one bit that this character Johnny hangs around. Perhaps he's a suave fella and he's working all of his charms on my Mom? If so, I think that's great. Go Mom.

So, even though she's declined, I feel a strange reassurance with this stage that she's at. She no longer seems aware that she has Alzheimer's, and therefore, doesn't have to feel bad about it. She freely chatters throughout the day, and often laughs about what she's saying. It seems like the world inside of her head maybe isn't such a bad place to be.

And now when I'm around her, it gives me comfort just to hear her talk.

Even if it is to her playboy fantasy friend, Johnny.

Living

I talk to my Dad now more than I ever did. We talk about a lot of stuff, but mostly about Mom. I know how much he still loves her and he says he prays for a miracle everyday. He says Mom has declined pretty sharply even in the past few weeks, and it has gotten harder and harder to engage her in anything. She spends most of her time in the rocking chair and counting out loud. He's even said there are times when she doesn't know who he is. But then, he says, she'll have moments where she's acutely aware of what's happening to her and she'll say to my Dad: "You know, I'm not going to be around much longer." And I know this breaks my Dad's heart; it breaks mine, too.

But then I have to think that we all live and die. It's one of the simplest facts of life. We can't avoid it. And I don't want to dwell on my Mom's eventual death. I want to focus on her life and what a great job she did of living it. I hope that I've been able to show that here. Mostly, I'm trying to feel grateful that I got a chance to know her and to love her. And, of course, I wish I got to spend more time with her - but now, I spend time with her here - on this silly little blog.

This time of seeing Mom decline has been difficult. But, I think it has forced me to gather all of these great memories of her that I would otherwise take for granted. And I still feel like there's so much more to share. The essence of my Mom may be gone, but my memories of her are plentiful. And I plan to keep sharing them.

Synchronized Divers

Perhaps Mom's water ballerina training rubbed off on us more than I thought? Here's a picture of Amy and Heather doing a synchronized dive into a hotel pool. Not bad.

I distinctly remember Mom teaching us how to dive. From the lined up fingers, to the turned down head, to the essential pointed toes. My sisters and I weren't able to do most of her water ballet moves, but Mom did manage to train us chicken-winged monkeys to dive.

Bringing the Funk

Here's a picture of Mom dancing with her good friend Jack Valentine. I think this was at my Dad's class reunion in International Falls. By looking at some of the fashions, I'm guessing this was in the mid to late 80s. (Those white hose with the white pumps are a total giveaway.)

And this isn't the first time I've seen Mom kick off her shoes at a party. Clearly, Mom knows how to bring the funk to an event.

Card Competition

Before Mom's birthday, I thought long and hard about an appropriate gift to give her. It's gotten rather tricky. She doesn't really express a want or need for anything, and she doesn't really have much for hobbies any more. So, this year I decided to do something a little different - I decided to send her a stack of birthday cards. Who wouldn't want to open the mailbox to find a large pile of birthday greetings, right?

And then it occured to me. The idea was not really mine. It was originally Mom's.

About 20 years ago, she sent my Uncle, her brother, maybe 30 birthday cards for his birthday. My Uncle Doc was a teacher for the Department of Defense - he taught on Army bases all over the world. He was an extraordinary man that had an extraordinary life. But, in the midst of all of his global adventures, every summer he came back to Ely, Minnesota to take care of my Granny and her house. My Granny has been a widow since her late 40's and my Uncle was a very dutiful and responsible son.

Every July Granny would receive a handful of birthday cards from friends and relatives and she'd proudly display them on top of her television. They would remain there until August, my Uncle's birthday, when his birthday cards would arrive. She'd take her cards down and display my Uncle's much smaller collection. My Uncle confessed to my Mom that he couldn't help but feel like this was like a competition to my Granny and he was losing. He knew the whole thing was rather silly, but my Granny has been known to be rather "silly" at times.

So, for his next birthday, Mom made certain that her brother won the birthday card battle. We sent him more cards than would fit on top of the television. My Uncle's birthday cards kicked Granny's birthday cards' little flat asses.

And that was the kind of thing Mom did all the time. She didn't send one birthday card, she sent 30. She didn't buy 2 boxes of Girl Scout cookies, she bought 20. She was constantly going out of her way to make other people feel good. Mom was a giver.

And there are times when Mom sneaks into my life unexpectedly. I'll find myself pursing my lips when I write like Mom did, or cursing at other drivers like she did, or even sending out stacks of birthday cards. I don't fear turning into my Mom. I can only hope that I will be more like her.

Happy Birthday

Today is Mom's birthday. She is 62 years old.

This video is a tribute to the gift of an immature sense of humor that my Mom blessed me with.