(PERSONAL BLOG)

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day–mild 80s.  We’ve had more rain (thank you, thank you, thank you), so everything is turning from brown to green again.  So, it was a nice drive to see my Mom.

Again, I wonder at the houses along the way that have overgrown weeds, the houses looking sad, like they’re abandoned.  I wonder about the owners and what happened to them…

The corn crop along the highway is indicative of the drought–they’re about knee high with the tassles sticking up (they should be twice that height).

I realize two things as I’m driving:  only one bug hit my windshield, and there were no woolly worms crossing the road.  This is the time of year when I would normally look like I’m drunk because I’d be swerving all over the road to avoid hitting them–but not a one was seen.  This was the warning when they came out with Bt corn, which is bioengineered to destroy the caterpillars that ate the corn crop.  With that in mind, it occurred to me that bugs used to plaster the windshield during the summer months here–they no longer do.  And others have noticed that the birds are not as plentiful as before–their songs were a pleasant chorus, and now it’s a single bird singing.  Silent Spring, anyone?  (A side note~~as admirable Rachel Carson’s work was, she still thought that science could cure whatever ills affected nature–something I’ve come to disagree with, as Nature is superior to anything science can cook  up.)

I arrive at the nursing home, and my Mom’s color is better than last time.  But she still doesn’t remember my name.  This is definitely a change from even two months ago.  She always knew my name even though she might be confused about other things.  She asked what grade my kids were in, and I had to tell her that they were grown and gone several times during my visit.  The conversation went around in circles.  Usually, she would be able to at least carry on a conversation, but yesterday, she was having more difficulty making sense.  My sister brought cupcakes (I stuck to the diet and didn’t eat any) which made Mom happy.

We started to sing “Happy Birthday” to her, and Mom began to cry.  We both broke up over that.  You have to know my Mom–she was not one for spontaneous displays like that.  She wouldn’t give you a hug for no reason, nor was she the type to have cookies out of the oven when you got home from school.  I don’t think she knew how to be a mother, as her own mother caused her grief.

The thought struck me how she didn’t really know how to take me—-because I was so different from her.  I was more like my Dad.

I started to leave before I knew my sister was coming, and my Mom wanted to walk me to the door (something she hadn’t done previously) and then she did it again when my sister and I were on our way out the door.  She didn’t want us to go (and perhaps she wanted to come home with us).  Tough day–tears on the way home.