Half done

When I moved my parents out to Minnesota from Brooklyn, I had one goal. I wanted to know that when they died I had done all I could do to have no regrets. Now that the old man is gone I can say without a doubt, that I did all I could for him and I have no regrets as far as my care goes. Are there other regrets? Sure. I regret that he did not reconcile and ask my sister for forgiveness. I regret I don't know very much more than I did before about his horrific childhood. I regret I did not hear any stories about my birth mother. I regret that he could not talk about the past.

I can tell you something that is a bonus. I got to see a softer side of Sid. I got to see someone who was able to change his attitude about me. Did he appreciate me? I really don't know. He still thought I was a bit of a Pollyanna, doing for others when I didn't have to. But he started to see that as part of me, and not a bad thing. Over the past six years I lost my temper with him a few times. It wasn't pretty, and it really alarmed him. It also made him act better towards me and others. I wish him well in his new manifestation, whatever that may be.  A cousin said he was probably doing a jig somewhere. I have a feeling he is very happy.

The job is half done and I am feeling quite a lot of patience with the old lady. She never expected to outlive nearly everyone from her generation. Of five brothers and sisters, she is the only one left with her marbles. A younger sister, 88, lives in Florida. The friends she used to have in NY are all dead and many of the people she's met in her building are gone. She says she has no friends, but that isn't true. There was a great outpouring of sympathy from other residents and people have been very kind. The problem is short term memory loss. 

At 97, Harriet can remember her childhood and early life quite well. At least I think so, who is there to challenge her? But when it comes to events closer to now, we sometimes disagree. It is all perception and if it did not personally affect her, she can't remember at all. Whether this is true memory loss or just a manifestation of narcissism, I don't know. She repeats stories how others have offended her ad nauseam. She tends to forget details such as when I am coming for her. Then I find her in tears and fright and have to calm her down. My mantra these days is, "I won't abandon you." She finds it comforting and the other day she kissed my hand. I told her that isn't the way to kiss, and put my arms around her for a hug. She knocks me out and I am humbled.

She says she is ready to go anytime. She doesn't want to live to 100. I think she will, maybe even 101. I wonder what lessons will be learned in this last part of our journey?