My mother had major surgery last week when I was in the area for my writer's conference. I was able to peek at her twice in the ICU before I had to leave to catch my flight home. They said she had only two valves and needed to replace one so she would live. She looked as though she had died - white and still. Since I have been home, I call her each day to gage her health. The part of me that wants my mother back kicks in with hope when I first start dialing. When I hear how her voice has changed - slightly- but enough that I know my mother is different, I want to weep.
My own daughter called me today and I checked the sound and words of my own speech too wonder if I am changing already in her world. I worry when the day comes and she wishes for her mom back - the one that tucked her in and listened to all her problems. I worry I won't be the mom that is always there for her...that she will have to be there for me. I dread that day but pray that all of us will be ready when it arrives.