I got word late last night that one of my Old Dolls had passed away.
"Where will she be laid out?" I asked.
"We aren't invited to attend." one of the caregivers told me.
For a minute my blood boiled and I thought if I could figure out where she was, I would go, invited or not.
Last I heard we live in a free country, right?
Her only family member is a son who would come in the front door carrying a supply of diapers, walk right past her not saying a word, not even a nod in her general direction.
He'd toss the plastic bag in her closet and back-track right out the front door.
I'd been told that he once confided in one of the caregivers that his mother had been a "real bitch".
Well hey, I'm sure the children of my womb (the Koby-brats) could say that about me a time or two hundred.
Aren't we mothers all real bitches every now and again...?
Real or perceived....
What do we owe our mothers...?
Personally, I owe mine the world.
On a silver platter.
With a cherry on top.
I hope when my time comes that my children do more for me than begrudgingly deliver a bag of ass coverings once a week.
(I am more than certain that they will, I've been blessed with some wonderful children)
We (mostly) all deserve better than my old doll got.
If for nothing more than a simple payback for the 9 months you grew under our hearts.
Rest in Peace my dear, sweet, darling Miss Deedle.
I will miss our fun.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
3 comments:
Some bloggers write "gimme me some love".... as far as I'm concerned, I'd love some love, but I'd even take some hate, some expressions of your disgust, your outrage, mild irritation, sheer joy...whatever, I can take it, honestly I can. Just please (please) leave a comment or two and let me know what you think. Merci.
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It is good to know that as her caregiver, you valued her as a person and an individual. When my grandfather went on hospice, he had a young nurse who would come a few times a week to bathe him and help out. She was always sweet to him and he liked her and when he passed away, she cried...and you don't know what her tears meant to me...that this person who who was just doing her job, who probably had 20 other dying patients to worry about...could see how special he was and cared when he died. This woman's son may never realize the special things about his mother that you could see, and even if he does, it will be too late, but at least you saw those things, and you valued her as a person.
ReplyDeleteHi Sandra Rose... Hospice nurses are the best, for sure. Thank you for reading and for the comment. xo
ReplyDeleteSmooches, Koby, on the passing of your Old Doll. Is this the Doll whose 100th bday was just celebrated? Regardless, God rest her soul.
ReplyDeleteI cannot imagine not honoring my mother (or my father!). As a parent, it's not always their job to be my friend (nor I my children's friend). That doesn't make them bitchy; it just means they're doing their job!