Mother and Child Reunion

I know they say let it be
But it just don't work out that way
And the course of a lifetime runs
Over and over again

No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away, oh, little darling of mine.

"Mother and Child Reunion"
Words and Music - Paul Simon

I am the youngest of two daughters from two marriages; marriages my mom defines as "too young" (my sister's dad) and "too quick" (my dad). I am married and child free, and as such, do have considerably less responsibility than my sister with two kids under six. This truth, and my dependable nature, have designated me mom's main caregiver, chemo buddy, cheer leader and confidant. Today provided us a unique moment to be reunited as mother and child; in the midst of it I bookmarked it, so that when all I have is memories, this one will sustain me.

Mom returned home from the hospital yesterday after surgery to remove her uterus and complete the job they weren't able to finish in December due to complications. Today I paid her a visit while my British Import was working spotlight at the local theater's finale performance of "The King and I". I found Mom lying wig free on her right side in her full size bed, the air cranked to 70 degrees with her snuggled under a green striped cotton sheet and green themed patchwork quilt. First I sat on the edge of the full size bed looking at her almost over my right shoulder but that became tiresome after awhile, so I opted to stretch out my pink toe polished feet and lay next to her sharing the details of a recent visit with my paternal grandmother, babysitting my niece and nephew the night before, and good news about my dad moving into his own apartment. Then I asked her about her return home and current pain level.

As she shared with me her frustrations at her limitations, and her need for help caring for my aging stepfather - he's a WWII wounded vet and a good 25 years older than Mom - I stroked her arm with it's touch of dry skin from the medications, while she rubbed her bald head as if doing so soothed her. My step dad wants so much to protect her and be more self sufficient, evident by his attempt to quietly stride to the handicap ramp with his walker and check out what he thought were hoodlums cutting through the yard. We caught him mid stroll, telling him we had taken care of the "situation", he relented and returned to his Mets game. "He thought I was asleep, " Mom smiled and sighed. When I described him as a warrior spirit in an aging body, Mom agreed with me and became choked up. She is in desperate need of assistance with him, and we agreed to find resources to help.

And there we were, talking for a couple of hours, nestled on the bed together, like we had so many other times when I was younger, but hadn't done for ages. This chat was similar to ones we had recently in the car on the way to chemo or the doctor's, or during chemo, those long drawn out days she hated and that never went the same way twice. But being close to each other, outside of a hospital, the cancer ward, and the car, in the personal setting of her room, in the cool comfort of the air conditioning and cotton blankets, the time was imprinted in my mind more than all the others.

I thought to myself, "Remember this, Sharon. She doesn't talk to your sister like this. She doesn't talk to her sister like this. She only talks this way with you", and it was in that moment I realized of all my memories of her illness and her living with cancer, this is what I want to remember most.

Our mother and child reunion.