Traveling with my mom
She's 88 years young and sprite as they make them , that is despite the loss of the man she loved and was married to for 61 years, my dad. As I said at their 6oth she was the living model of the part of their wedding vows "in sickness and in health", as was he devoted until he passed and even then.
It is our annual trip back "home" where she lived until 10 years ago when she came to live with me.So now, reversing the order of things , I hold her hand as she maneuvers in and out of the wheelchair at the airport and walks onto the plane.
I came with my typical resistance of leaving home , my nest, and those I love there, including my family and fur baby.And of course, I grapple with the angst I feel when I leave my work.But then on a day like this I remember her years and as we room together, I see her reading her sports page-"go Yankees" she would say, and praying her novenas, in keeping with a long line of female pray-ers in my lineage.
Our day at the airport was greuling what with needing to change planes and concourses, being "wheeled" there as I followed,initially to the wrong concourse and having to take a non air conditioned bus to get to the right one for our second leg of our flight.
I look at her and I wonder what life will be like when I am her age.I wonder who will care for me then.I am glad I am here to be that for her, a caregiver.I align myself with Spirit and remember we are never alone, and that assures me to live this moment well.And today as she rises to g0 to breakfast in our hotel, I marvel at the strength of her spirit and as my grandmother who lived until 102 years young would say,"thank God for good genes"!