My Secret Wish

I suppose it's not such a "secret" wish if I'm going to write about it, but here it is.

I am hoping my mother goes to sleep tonight...and just doesn't wake up.  I know that's a terrible thing to say, but we had the very best lunch ever today.  

The visit started out the same as always, telling me she was feeling disoriented and that she hates it when she occasionally has days like that (she doesn't realize that she tells me that every day), that she feels old, that her brain isn't working, etc.

I was happy to see that she seems to be caught up on her meds.  I was afraid that she had forgotten to take them every day.

While we were walking to lunch, something I said struck her as funny and she started giggling.  She was in a giddy mood all through lunch and everything made her laugh.  It was just a delight.  A lot of times she told me things that didn't make any sense, but she thought it hilarious and giggled.  She talked about men and sex and food and being old, and losing her mind, and other people in the dining room, and said that even her teeth don't work any more (said she puts food in her mouth and she forgets what she's supposed to do with it). Everything made her giggle and I was so happy to share her giddiness.

When we got back to the apartment, she sunk into her chair again and the depression was back, but they can't take away that fun luncheon.  I realize that what I need to do is just take these gems of days as they come, enjoy them to the fullest, and let them sustain me when we talk for the thousandth time about living to hunnert or why she's the last of her family still alive.

As I left, she threw her arms around me, hugged me tight and told me she loved me.

But if there is a kind, compassionate God, my mother will just quietly pass out of this life tonight and take those giggles with her to heaven.