Another story Mom told us today was about my kindergarten Christmas pageant.
Mom was working when I first started school. We had a Christmas pageant. The kindergarten kids wore their pajamas and sang songs. Mom told us that she hadn’t wanted to go. She was tired and tried to convince herself that it wasn’t important. But she couldn’t make herself believe that, so she came. She remembers that when she arrived I that I kept saying, ‘This is my Mom,’ with such pride and pleasure that she knew it was important, at least to me.
She also told me about the times she and Dad went to the parent-teacher conferences and how the teachers got excited when a father would come.
I enjoyed this little bit of time with Mom and my cousin. I like hearing the stories of my family. It feels like I know myself a little better hearing these stories. They are the things that make us who we are.
It really touched me that she cared about how I felt about her at that age. And it wasn’t a story that I’d heard before. I want to hear those stories.
I’ve tried over the last 10 years or so to try to create situations where my parents would tell me more about themselves. The stories we tell, those influential moments that we remember forever, make us who we are.
I would really like to know what made my parents who they are. Sorry, I’m still unable to think of my Dad in the past tense.
I’m worried now, that Mom might really be slipping into Alzheimer’s. She’s been irritable and suspicious. She had diarrhea the other day and my cousin gave her half of an immodium. Her caregiver asked that we buy some to keep in the house and I told her I was going to buy some to have around, just in case. From the way she reacted, you’d think I proposed to keep a vial of arsenic in the medicine cabinet. It’s so frustrating.