Living 6 hours from mom, and my sister, has been difficult enough these past many years. But this is even harder. I am discovering that when friends have spoken of losing a parent they care for so much has been something I had never really allowed to touch my heart. Like really really effect my heart. I thought I was a better friend, and now think I've missed the mark. Crying and laughing with them, I could never relate.
<><><><> In the past...like water under a bridge.
My sister is an angel. These 2 women have lived together, or close together for the past 30 years. They really know each other. The good and the rest. I am finding my part to play is not what I ever expected. As the oldest daughter, one thinks I would be the "oversee-er"...and I am not. My baby sis is her everything while she cannot be that for herself.
I've made phone calls, and visits, and suggestions, and been the friend I think I need to be, while pushing my pain aside thinking it's not time for that yet. I wait everyday to hear of a miraculous improvement...or even a little sign that mom's quality of life has shown even a little sign of hope. Or that she's gained a pound or two, or that she went for a walk, or wanted to dance a few of her famous tap steps. Or fed the girls.
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