“Don’t step on a crack,” she said.
“Why not,” I asked.
“Because you will break your mother’s back,” she said.
I turned to her. “But you’re my mom,” I said and she laughed.
My mom and I go through this bit quite often. She always laughs when I feign surprise and exclaim that she is my mom. I love to see her laugh and smile. It makes me happy – but yet sad. You see my mom suffers from Alzheimer’s disease.
She tells people I am her daughter but I’m not sure she knows what that means. Does she know that she gave birth to me? Does she know how she shaped and molded me to become the woman I am today or is the word “daughter” just a label she associates me with?
When she was first diagnosed, it seemed unreal. Sure she was forgetting things more than normal but she still knew the names and birthdays of her children. She could still have a conversation with relatives about the good old days and she still knew when my dad would sneak outside to smoke a cigarette. In fact, until that day at the doctor’s office, she was still driving. Read More