Obligations

Since yesterday's post was titled "It's Tuesday" it just seems tacky to leave it there today. Like left overs on the counter that you didn't put away properly--all dry around the edges and inedible.

Going VT in 45 minutes. Let's just get it over with like taking that nasty dose of medicine or cleaning the toilet--a chore I must complete or be nagged by it until I do. God would probably rather I not do it than do it with that attitude. But after I get there I'll be glad I went and I won't dislike it at all--until next time.

I'm a real shmuck when it comes to guilt. I can guilt myself into sheer misery until I do what I know I should.

Why can't I just put off the dreaded deed and go on? But nooo! Not me. (I was adopted, you know, and I swear I have Jewish ancestors who passed along the guilt of the Jewish mother in triple doses.)

I never have overdue library books. Rarely am late for anything. I can be depended on to do whatever I promised 99% of the time. And, frankly, it's pretty annoying from my viewpoint. My word is my bond ad naseum. It's a curse and a blessing.

An Idaho friend who I have known for 58 years--almost my entire life--went to see my mom yesterday at the assisted living place. Mom didn't know her. Even when this lady, who was really like a daughter to Mom, brought up her parents and all the good times they shared, Mom just smiled and shook her head as if to say, "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell." And I'm sure it didn't stir any memories. They're trapped inside somewhere deep  and foggy. Lost to her recollection. But I told Nedra that I'm sure Mom had some glimmer of remembrance and that it was appreciated. I know I appreciated it. I just ache that my sweet mother doesn't recall all those times she used to scrapbook, and relive, and cherish. What do we have left when everything is gone but breathing in and out? Has her life become an obligation that she can't let go of for some forgotten reason?