HOW SAD!

I remember her vividly, holding my hand as we crossed Stone Avenue in Brooklyn. It was Halloween and the day was cold, she was wearing a fake fur coat, the collar fur waving in the cold breeze, her eyes squinting against the blast. Her Roman features: solid and beautiful lay kindly on my memory. She was carrying a box of cupcakes frosted in orange icing and black sprinkles for dessert after the night’s dinner.

Mom was quiet and not complaining, just doing what she did best, teaching me not to complain, to make the best of things, that in the end there are rewards for everything we do in life, if we try, even that cold walk held a lesson.

There were other lessons small like that, inconsequential maybe, but valuable non-the-less.

Yesterday as she sat up for the first time in the hospital room, a calm overcame her as she mused quietly, her two oldest children determining her future, making our presence felt. She had lost her youngest and sole surviving sister in April, and my older sister Tess suffering herself from the ravages of getting older when she lost a wonderful man struggled with her emotions as we all do when it comes to a mom who is no longer in control.

We have found mom a rehab center in a nursing home. A nursing home is where old people go, where they wait out their remaining years on Earth. Mom was always so vital, even in her 90’s.

Suddenly we were holding her hand, leading her across Stone Avenue, and it isn’t cupcakes we are holding but an uncertain future, a pending uncertainty that has no clues other than the sadness it projects in shadows and pained sighs.

Mom would always squint her eyes when I showed up, waiting for my punch line, some crazy antic, maybe some insane observation, a laugh slowly building, a smile forming on her stern lips. Today all I see is sadness, deep contemplation and acceptance.

Once many years ago I attended a dance at a wedding before I was married. I got to talking to this very sweet and attractive girl and we talked for along time. But as the hours wore down to minutes and I had to say goodbye, sadness was sweeping in like a cold weather front, I knew I wouldn’t see her again because I didn’t want to get serious just then. That feeling of loss hit me once again, that coldness, that sense of the clock suddenly came back, and I think mom senses it too.

I know many of you have lost a parent, and know what I am talking about, but whether it comes early on or late in life, it still hurts.