Had a really nice evening with mum tonight, reminiscing about old times, childhood friends, past family members, family holidays, work and the life she used to live. It was so nice sharing memories and just having a chat.
Over the past few years I have been so angry with her for growing old and for not making more of an effort to keep active. I was forever complaining that if she sat in her chair all day she would lose her mobility, which of course she did. So I considered myself lucky to have been given an opportunity to restore our friendship.
Over the last few weeks I have actually had a serious shift in perspective. Seeing mum so vulnerable and dependent after her stroke came as a huge shock. No one should ever be in that position, being totally reliant on others, tube fed, suffering from frightening bouts of paranoia and confusion and worried about your future. Plus one of the worse things about getting old is that you lose most of your friends, so there are very few people left who remember the real you.
I wonder if my anger with her was all part of a grief process – knowing that I was losing the mum that I wanted her to be and fearing the role swap?