#129 Report Four from El Paso

It is early Monday morning. It is a time when it is easy to stay in bed and work on the book of Mom’s life. As you may have guessed, I have very mixed emotions about my mother. She is a woman who has had a difficult life. She is also a woman who makes it extremely difficult to love her.

One of my goals this trip was to focus on as much of the positive aspects of her as I could. I am pleased to say that spending the time getting to talk about her life and recording it has been cathartic for both of us.

I better understand the concept of Separate Realities. To hear her side of the story and then to listen to what my younger brother remembers is absolutely fascinating. It “reads” almost like a soap opera. It is both funny and tragic.

Mom has a terrific sense of humor and a terrific sense of self-preservation. She desperately needs to maintain control of her life and environment. Any threat to that and the fighter appears. This approach to the world has held her in good stead over the years. I can only imagine what must be going through her mind as she endeavors to come to grips with her own mortality. Her sight is failing. Her stamina is failing. Her realization that she can no longer control things as she once did must be devastating.

It is sad to see her go through this. My brother is the hero in the family. He has physically stayed by her side. He lives in the house with her and sees that she is taken care of in spite of her frequent efforts to let him know that she is still the boss. (Tears are near as I re-read this passage.) There is a part of me that sees her as a pitiless person who has brought all of this on herself. There is a part of me that wonders what I could have done differently. There is the realization that I can only choose those actions and thoughts that protect me. How much of my mother’s son am I?

We are not cut from the same bolt of cloth. She and my brother are. They are not the easiest people in the world to live with. Yet, they have their endearing moments, and I love them as best as they will allow it. Yes, Keith, I did bail out after high school graduation. It is called self-preservation and survival. How much different from them am I?

#129