he year 2010 was important to me. A lot of things took place on a spiritual and emotional plane that became part of who I am. Most important was the fact that I was laid off from my job and felt pretty badly about that. During that time I began writing my memoirs. I found that I didn’t have to dig deep to find dozens of stories to tell. I think both sides of my family are remarkable in different ways. Also, at this time my mother was beginning her descent into Alzheimers Disease so I utilized my time off by going back and forth to Pittsburgh. It was in that fertile time that I learned even more Golding/Reidbord stories.
Oh how I loved to make my mother laugh. There were some humorous times that we spent talking, usually talking for a whole day without a lot of stops. In the way our inner spirits move–and never supplying the reasons why–as my mother became “sicker” she laughed more, smiled more, was a joy to be with. One thing I used to say to her was: “The president keeps extending unemployment compensation for weeks on end. What he’s saying is that I should come and visit my mother.” She always laughed when I said this. One of the things about Alzheimer’s is that there’s no recent memories stored. She asked me the same questions, sometimes for a whole day. There were a few times when I felt like I was going insane with it but what was my choice? I guess my alternate choice was to not come and visit. But I felt compelled to be there. Even Pittsburgh played a part in these trips across the state. I came to Pittsburgh via Route 28 and there was a turn in the road where, once you finished the turn, a skyline appeared of the PPG building and other buildings. My heart would jump and I got all ecstatic. It was magical. This is why, when my mother’s dementia intensified and she was put into a locked ward and got hostile towards me and kept thinking I was one of her first cousins, my family had to practically sit on me. I kept longing to go back; it was painful but I was made to face the fact that my visits were of no use.
We sat up late, sipping red wine and getting a little tipsy; my mother brought out a box of pictures, cards, and letters and we went over them together. Now I must say that my mother discussed topics with me that mothers very rarely discuss with anyone, especially their daughters. Inwardly I shook a little during these conversations but I took this in the spirit of gratitude and assumed that posture of “counselor.” Mainly I just sat and listened. My mother told me that “she had a special kind of fun with me that she didn’t have with anyone else.” What daughter could ask for more?
We weren’t close before this happened. So those few years, while she was exiting this world, were a gift to me.
lgmwriting 