I went back to visit mum this afternoon. She was in the yard when I pulled into the garage. Seeing her in her oversized yellow boots always cheers me. To me, those bright yellow boots are a good sign. Whenever I see her in them, it brings back memories of my super mum, the one I grew up with and have grown so accustomed to. The tough cookie who's invincible, who has a never-say-die attitude and who's so efficient and generous. The one we looked up to when we needed help or answers.
She removed her boots when I arrived. She wasn't doing anything in particular, just walking about in the garden. We strolled into the house together and started chatting. Then she held her head with both her palms. Talking makes her head hurt alot. She describes it as a surging pain which gives her so much discomfort she prefers not to talk at all.
We sat next to each other on the sofa. I did most of the talking and she chimed in often, only to stop herself when the pain surfaced again. We ended up sitting quietly, watching my nieces doing their homework.
It is painful to watch a strong woman become sick and frail. Even more so when you know there's nothing you can do or say to make the pain go away. All we do is tell her to rest more. Yet I truly dread to come home and see her lying in bed, immobilised by dizziness and excruciating pain in her head. I have become very sensitive to her good days and bad days. These days, I noticed the good 'painless' days are becoming rare. She's mostly unwell.
Yet she tries to be cheerful when we visit. Before I left this afternoon, she filled a bag of goodies from her pantry and insisted I bring them back for the kids. "Take some spinach too, the organic ones grown by your father."
To me, my mum is such an amazing woman. Despite her frail health, she still thinks about our welfare and finds the strength to show her love in her own ways. I wish I could always be there for her. I truly felt so sorry when I pulled out of the garage.