Mom countdown - Day 18

I'm here in Bismarck, listening to the thunder rolling across the beautiful prairie sky, watching the fat raindrops pelt down on the thirsty grass. Mom calls it a "million dollar rain" just like HER dad used to call it. It's so much fun to be here with Mom and Dad - we organized all of Mom's jewelry and even tackled a huge pile of loose recipes. I love organizing - it makes me feel productive and useful, like I somehow have control over my world. I know it's all an illusion, but still ... Mom looks really good, but doesn't walk around a lot. She does stretches and leg lifts when she's up, and that's good to see. I told her how great she is to be this spritely and optimistic and with-it, considering. I don't know if she appreciates how fabulous she is. I don't know how I'd feel if I were in her shoes.

I brought them the tagboard with all of Mom's pictures on it. I didn't say it was for her funeral, but I heard her telling some friends on the phone that that's what it was for, and how beautiful it was. It doesn't seem real to me anymore, walking right to the edge of this life and peering over, then walking back for a while. That's the dangerous thing for me - getting lulled into this immortality thing, thinking Mom will somehow live forever in her physical body. I look at her, kiss her soft cheek, and imagine she'll see Kari's children grow up (not that that's anytime in the near future), or see Bill graduate from high school. I know she WILL, but not on this physical plane. But for now she's here, and I get to hear her stories, and hear her laughing her raucous, full throttle laugh. I'm constantly amazed at her optimism, her total and utter acceptance and faith in her life situation. She's here today, she says, and that's good enough for now. She thanks Dad every time he gets her her pills, or her food, or fixes her pillow. I wonder if I would be that polite, of if I'd be crabby and resentful that I'm leaving and everyone else gets to stay. How would we ever know how we'll react when we get to the end of our lives? I read somewhere that how you are NOW will determine how you act as you get older. So, if you're crabby now, you'll get crabbier as you get older. If you're sweet now, you'll only get sweeter. Well, if that's true, my mom definitely went the sweet route.

So, I'm enjoying the sweetness for the next few days before I head east again, not knowing when I'll be back this way. But Bismarck is so beautiful, I think as I walk here down by the river among the cotton trees - it's the most beautiful spot in North Dakota, I think, until I head further west, or head down Enderlin way, or head up north... okay, so ALL of North Dakota is beautiful, and if you don't believe it, well, maybe you just haven't lived here long enough, or traveled far enough, or maybe taken the time to see the beauty in the fields or the huge, wide open sky. I've lived here 46 of my 47 years, and I wonder if I'll die here. But I've got another 50 years to figure that out.