Today would have been my mom's birthday. She would have been 97 if she had lived. But she died eight years ago. Hard to believe it has been that long. I have to say that it was a blessing for her that she didn't live longer. She suffered both physically and emotionally in terrible ways. It was painful to watch that pain she experienced with every movement she made. In her last year, it was hard to stand out side of her room in the nursing home when the aides went in to turn her. You couldn't help but hear her cries, she hurt so.
I certainly can't say how I would have dealt with the misery she had to endure everyday if it had been me. We all like to think that we could rise above the humiliation and assault to our pride, but I don't know that we would do any better. I think she was the most proud woman I ever knew and that made loss of her independence and control of her existence even more difficult for her to bear.
Sometimes I wonder how much of her is in me and how much of her I deny in myself. I would have loved to inherit her intelligence, but I guess it wasn't to be part of my genes. She was also a stunning blonde who captured my dad's heart from the time he met her as a Sunday school teacher at his first church so many years ago in Billings. Did she have undue self confidence or was it a cover for her lack of confidence in herself? One wonders.
However, I hate to admit it but probably I do have some of her head strongness and stubborness, if that's what you want to call it. Others may have another name for it, I'm sure. I hope that I can balance it with a sense of listening to others who may be wiser and having an inner barometer to feel the needs I see and hear in others. I hope so. Regardless, if I am who I am because of or inspite of my mother, she was my mother and I hold her dear to my heart everyday.
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