Visiting can be difficult for many. Why should I visit? She doesn’t know who I am, can’t hear me and forgets I was there the moment I leave. What’s the point? Plus it’s depressing…I hear you say.
But visiting can be a joy if you stop looking for the person who was and enjoy the delightful person who is with you.
Today Mother proved the rule. After an hour of chatting about the weather and the view and what Seattle will be like in 50 years—the usual subjects—the conversation took a philosophical turn.
Mom: “When you are a very old lady—as old as I am now—I’ll be dead you know—you’ll have to call me up and tell what it’s like.”
Me: “ Will you be in heaven?”
“Naturally. I’ll knock on your door to tell you what has occurred and if I don’t knock on your door, you’ll know nothing has happened. That we just lie there—dead, doing nothing. (At this point, she mimed looking dead and laughed.)
“And if everyone who says they are going to heaven went, it would be too full. I’ll stay here.”
Later she began singing “Bicycle Built for Two” to one of her stuffed animals. She remembered every word.