The Morning After

After returning from Maristone late Friday night, I got up early Saturday morning and drove back down to Franklin to make sure my mom got up for breakfast.  I was hoping that her first night sleeping alone went well, and it did for the most part, which was a relief.  When I arrived about 7:30 a.m., she was up and dressed, which I thought was a good sign.  We sat down, talked for a few minutes and played a game of Trouble, believe it or not.

Trouble is a game of significance for me, as one of my early and fond memories from childhood is my mom playing Trouble with me at our house in La Mirada, California, every morning before I walked across the street to go to kindergarten at Cling Elementary School.  We laughed as we played then, when I was 5 years old, and we laughed as we played Saturday morning before breakfast, when I was 50 years old.  The more things change, the more they stay the same.

We had breakfast together in the dining room, which was nice.  There is a hierarchy among residents that impacts who sits where and with whom, strangely enough.  More on that later, though.  Patti Sparks stopped by and relieved me at 10 a.m., so I could go to J.P.'s basketball team and accompany he and his teammates to the Belmont-Western Kentucky game Saturday evening.  I left with a heavy heart and a few pangs of guilt, as I felt, in a way, like I was getting time off for good behavior.

I need to say a word about Patti Sparks and Jan Baker, two of my mom's closest friends.  Friendship, true friendship, is difficult to define.  But I know it when I see it, and I see it in the relationship between my mom, Patti and Jan.  The selfless way they treat her, care for her, talk to her and simply love her renews my faith in man and, really, in God.  Patti and Jan have been a sounding board for me and have given me invaluable insight and advice.

When my mom was still living at home the last few months - and really struggling - Patti and Jan were a constant presence in her life (along with their husbands, Ben Sparks and Don Baker).  They were at her house almost every day, checking on her, taking her to the grocery store or out to dinner.  What means the most to me, I think, is Patti and Jan didn't forget about my mom when she began to fade away.  In fact, they did the opposite.  They took time away from their families (husbands, children and grandchildren), and continue to do so, to spend time with my mom when she needed t them the most.  That's true friendship and I can never thank them enough for that.  

I get emotional thinking about the two of them and writing about them because of how special they are to my mom, and to Tracy, Alice and me.

My mom is adjusting to her new circumstances, to her new life, and I am, too.  I have needed to write the past few blog posts - to vent, if you will - to help me try to put what has happened to her in perspective.  There will be more venting, but there will more posts about my boys in happier times.  My mom would want that.