... I never know what kind of day this lovely disease will deliver. Somedays she is happy, laughing, and genuinely excited for visitors. Others, she will be in a deep fog, a bit spacey, and/or frustrated. Today was one of the latter. She kept repeating that Bobby was dead. The “Bobby” she is referring to is her husband...my dad...and he’s fine. He was with her earlier and would be heading back to see her a few hours after we left. But there was no explaining this to her. She was agitated and in a far off land. One that we weren’t invited to...nor one that I’d want to visit if I’m being honest. It’s a shit thing that I’ve weirdly gotten used to and kind of accepted...no matter how much I want to break down and scream at the world for being brutal and cruel. So instead, tonight I’ll think of when we raised these glasses in celebration several years back. Happy and unaware of the difficult road ahead. Just living and loving that moment. Here’s to you mom. I wish that you knew just how much you mean to me and how grateful I am to every sacrifice you made for me. I hope that’s still inside of you somewhere. Love you mama. ❤️
