I realize now that in many ways, even in the madness of her addiction, she always managed to put me first. Situations that I had ignored or shrugged off are now clear.  She needed comfort in her last days that I didn’t give her. I simply didn’t know how. Our love for each other was strong; yet it often felt awkward and unfamiliar. Sometimes we just sat silently or watched television. I was completely crippled by her illness. I was just trained not to show fear or pain. It’s a side effect of being raised by an alcoholic. There is a lot to be said about accepting people for who they are and not who we wish them to be.  I know she took many painful secrets to her grave. There were so many things I wanted to know. I would ask if she was ok, and did she need anything. Those questions were answered but anything more personal were often ignored. Why did she ignore some of my questions? I realize now it was because she knew that I was better off not having all the answers. Her addictions and subsequent feelings of inferiority had me on a pedestal in her world. She avoided so many of her feelings to protect mine. These are things I understand now.. I now do some of the same things with my own children. Still, when I think of my mother I regret being so self-centered.

One time I took off work to visit her in the hospital. I hated how difficult it was for me to arrange being off work for even an hour.  I was torn because I needed to be with her, but I also needed that job to take care of my family. It wasn’t the only time I took off work to go and see her in the hospital but on that day, she had a scary incident and I was worried about her. I raced down there and talked with her for a while and she seemed to be fine. She was in a good mood, she looked great. She seemed happy. She could not eat yet, so I bought her a lollipop at the gift shop so that she could have something for her wild sweet tooth. We laughed and watched TV and for a little while there wasn’t any cancer in the room. It was a nice visit that day. She was often so sick that visits were hard. I wondered; when did she get so old? How did I not see this coming? It is a surprise that her chain smoking and alcoholism did not kill her sooner. Still, her illness and her death somehow came as a surprise.

I have learned most of my lessons the hard way. One thing I know for sure is that life is unfair, and death is certain. We all grow old if we survive our life choices. In my mother`s childhood home there was a framed photo of Mark Twain. He was like a hero to her father. Mark Twain said that first we choose our habits, then our habits choose the rest of our lives. He was right. Well, my mother always told me that growing old is not for sissies. She was right, too. Once we slow down and learn to be still, we can see things from a different perspective. My life is slower now and I often sit and look outside at my own bird feeder. My mother was right about a lot of things. I wish I could go back to that day by the bird feeder and share that moment with her.  Hummingbirds are cool.