Dementia

Do you remember me and all of the times that you were there for me and helped me through my struggles? Do you remember the time that I drank too much and passed out in my friend's front lawn and instead of calling 911 she called you? Do you remember giving me the scented trash bags during my first hang over just to prove a point?

Do you remember when the phone rang and you put your hand on my shoulder and told me the news? It was my first funeral, my best friend. You know the same one I got into a fight with during girl scout camp?

What about when I got married and you're feet hurt so bad but you helped clean up the reception hall after everyone had eaten? Oh, how you complained but then said, "I love you and am so glad you married him."

And then there was the birth of my second son and Chris got so mad because you were overexcited because you were the one to introduce his brother to him. I still laugh at that.

What about all the times my friends would be over and you would dance around the room with a broom in your hand mimicking all of the commercial jingles on t.v.

You were the mother to my wayward friends, the ones who drank too much, cussed too much and couldn't fit into their own families. Where did you go? Why are you leaving? I'm trying my best, but don't feel like I'm good enough. I work too much, have a family and can't be there. But, you wouldn't notice anyway, would you? You live the best way you know. It's my turn to mother you now. I can only rely on the training you so skillfully gave to me. And, I hope that I do you justice. I'm sorry that you won't see my kids graduate or the men they will become.

I didn't want to write again because I knew this would come out. I needed this to come out. I hate that it has to.