Many of you have asked after my mother, all in all she is doing well. When she moved into Hale Ku’ike, the staffers there built her a raised planter bed so she could continue to garden.
I went to see her today and during lunch she went from being very bright and cheerful, to being confused and asking about coming back home with me. She hasn’t been this confused in a long time. I stayed with her for awhile, but then it was time for me to go. As I drove away, the song “For Good” from the Broadway show “Wicked” popped up on my ipod.
(Glinda) I’ve heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today
Because I knew you
This is so very true about me and my mother. She not only nurtured me in her wonderful garden of earthly delights, she remains the keeper of my past. She’s the one who knows all my faults, but who has always celebrated my triumphs. I have to remind myself to cherish the good days we’ve had, understanding that there may not be too many more of them. Also, that has her mind goes, so much of my past goes with it. I realize how often, when I needed to know some bit of family history, she’d always be there to fill in the bits and pieces that I don’t remember.
(Elphaba) It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You’ll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend…”
Every time I leave my mother, there’s a mix of relief, knowing I can go and live “my” life the way I want to and regret, knowing that the woman who had always been my best friend isn’t really “there” to share it anymore.
(Elphaba) And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the thing I’ve done you blame me for
(Glinda) But then, I guess we know
There’s blame to share
(Both) And none of it seems to matter anymore
All of the old hurts and disappointments feel so shallow now, and each time I see her, it reminds me how precious our time together has always been. But what’s a girl to do when she finds herself crying and driving at the same time? Luckily enough, my car’s autopilot was set for the nearest shopping mall.
I did need to buy some shoes (really, a good pair of dog walking shoes. If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you the receipt.) But I also needed to be around people. Real people. There are the characters in my novel and they talk to me a lot, but they have problems of their own. So what did I see?
1. A set of twin brothers, each with an almost identical looking girlfriend at their side.
2. Two service members saying how good it was to be back in a place full of Americans where they speak english. (I asked, they’d just returned from stops in five different countries).
3. Two sisters, each with great bee-hive hair, each with their make-up on just so, dressed in high heels and stylish clothing. But between them, was their mother, each daughter holding an arm, helping their mom to walk through the mall. Each sister had that look: a combination of resignation and despair. Ah, I know it well.
I really did need some cheering up, so I popped into a boutique that carries very cute charms and came across one that read: “If a girl wants to be legend she should go ahead and be one.” It was just the pick-me up I needed, and now it sits around my neck. We should at least give ourselves permission to be legends in our own lives. And my mother’s antics are legendary in mine.
I came home and as I parked the car, my phone rang. It was my mother. She said that she realized that she’d spaced out somehow. That she saw herself in a long dark canyon, with tall walls over twenty feet high, and she couldn’t figure out how she got there, and why she hadn’t been able to get back to Kailua before I did. I told her I realized she had spaced out and I was sorry she had to go through that. I asked her if she was okay, and she said she was, that someone from Hale Ku’ike came and got her and now it was time for her to have a cup of tea. I told her to enjoy a cup for me and that I’ll see her again tomorrow.
And I will see her, and I will tell her that I love her and she will say “I adore you” and we’ll water her garden.
There’s not much else to say. But thank you for being out there, it gives me some solace having this tiny space in the blogosphere to talk about my life. I hope you all can take something from it. If anything, it is to enjoy the lives that are given to us. There is so much that seems to be out of our control, but there is one thing we can control, our attitude towards it all. I wish you all the best and say thank you, thank you, thank you for being there. I hope you have a marvelous weekend, and I look forward to hearing from you. xoxoxoxoxo