Chapter 23 - Diane Gets Sick
Mom was seventy eight when she needed hip replacement.
Health issue, not dramatic.
She hated needing help.
Irony.
Amanda lived close.
Handled appointments.
I flew up for surgery week.
Mom kept apologizing.
“I don’t want to become burden.”
I stared.
“You taught Amanda to need you and me not to. Now you think needing us is bad.”
She sighed.
“I created impossible system.”
“Yes.”
We set schedule.
Amanda Monday-Wednesday.
Home health aide.
I remote manage medications? No, not nurse. I coordinated calendar.
Aunt Rachel meals.
Mom paid aide from own money.
No daughter expected to sacrifice everything.
Then Mom said:
“Claire, can you stay another week?”
I looked at work, kids.
“No.”
Old Mom might cry.
New Mom:
“Okay. I’ll ask Rachel.”
That one response told me more than years therapy.
Need was allowed.
No was allowed.
Relationship survived.
Then during recovery she pulled out green sleeping bag joke? Maybe.
She said:
“Hospital bed is better than den floor.”
I laughed.
“Low bar.”
She laughed and grimaced.
Then:
“I really did think little kids could sleep anywhere.”
“I know.”
“That was stupid.”
May you like
“Yes.”
No more apology needed.
