I don't know why...

Dad called. Mom had a lump on the left side of her head, just behind her ear. She thought she was getting another one on the other side. He'd been trying to get through to the doctor's office, but kept getting a redial message. I called and set up an appointment for 2:45. "I'll meet you there," I told him.

I don't know how they got past me. I was sitting in the parking lot waiting...and writing. That explains how I missed them. When I open that notebook and begin to write I lose sight of everything else. I get lost in my work. I looked up and saw the car. Doggone it! I hurried inside.

I peeked over the counter and asked, "OK. What did you do with my mother?"

"Probably the room at the end of the hall." Kelly laughed and pointed.

"Thanks." A good rapport with the staff at the doctor's office is important. I can think of times when I was so frazzled by so much responsibility--job outside the home, family to take care of, endless chore lists for a large family--there was so much that one little wrench thrown into the works could topple me. This humorous moment was a welcome one.

"Ah-ha! You thought you could slip past me, huh?" I greeted Mom, Dad and Gina, the nurse.

When Gina had finished with the statistical data--blood pressure, pulse, temperature, etc.--she left the three of us alone. Mom looked up at me. I could plainly see she was glad to see me. A slight pang of guilt struck me. I'm still spreading myself thin trying to take care of the people I love. Just because the youngest are now 20 doesn't mean that my life isn't busy. I keep asking myself how I had time to do everything I do and still work outside the home a minimum of 40 hours a week!

Mom said, "I don't understand why I got Alzheimer's."

I looked back at her and answered quietly, "I don't know, either, Mom." I didn't add how difficult it is to see her so frail. She always was so sharp. I keep saying that! I need to be there more. I need to go up and walk with her every day. But there are so many other things I'm trying to do. So many other places I need to be also. I'm trying to get those things taken care of while I can...but my mother needs me, too. She is dependent on her family to get her out of the house. She says she can still drive, but we all know that her driving days are over. And I'm thinking that it's time to remove the Internet from her computer, to save the money that she's paying for the service.

But though I should be there for her, I became overwhelmed when I fell so short. And I stopped going up to their house all the time. That was a stark difference from earlier on when Mom didn't want me to be there all the time because she was perfectly able to take care of herself, she said. In retrospect, I thought when the diagnosis was made that meant I needed to be on top of everything right then. But the process has been a gradual thing, a subtle thing. But when your brain is tired, or you are too close to the situation, it's hard to distinguish where the lines are and when you've crossed over them.

And I think about Dad...how he's taking so much of the responsibility for Mom's care...how they ask for so little.

But my brother told me I can't put my life on hold for our parents. But someone has to keep an eye on them. Someone has to be on the inside to understand what is going on and get help for them when they need it. They have to have someone they can trust. And they don't have friends. I tried to talk Mom into going to Senior Citizens but she wouldn't go. I tried to talk them into going to the Elderly Nutrition site to have dinner with other senior citizens, but they won't go.

Several months ago I was visiting. We were talking. Mom said, "I think God is mad at me."

"Why?" I was puzzled by that concept. Why would God be mad at my mother? This woman who has done the best she could with what she had...often not enough to work with. This woman who had been deaf for a number of years--never heard her babies cry...she felt us cry...but never gave up on God. She always knew when the time was right he would heal her ears. And he did. This woman who, when her sister accused her of not executing their mother's estate fairly, still executied it fairly, evenly divided everything so all five got an equal share. This woman who has always done the best she knew how...Why would God be angry with her?

"I haven't gone to his house. It says in the Bible that we're supposed to go to God's house and I haven't for a long time."

The idea puzzled me since I learned ages ago that each of us is a temple of God. He lives within us, so we are in him and he in us all the time. The church building isn't anything but a meeting place for those who believe the same.

"I don't think that's right, Mom. I don't know how God feels about you, but my best guess is that he's not mad at you. But if you want to go to church, you can go. I'll even stop and pick you up if you want me to."

She hasn't gone yet. Maybe it's time for me to call Saturday night to remind them of church. Then call them Sunday morning when I get up so they can get ready, and then leave early enough that I can go to their house and walk them to church. That will require my being less selfish and self-centered in the mornings.

I treasure my mornings at the computer. The window is in front of me, behind my desk so I can see the world as I work...the trees on the hillside across the creek, separated from me by all of the houses and garages between here and the Middle Fork of Little Beaver Creek. And when I'm writing I lose all track of time and place. I get lost in my work because I enjoy it so much. And it has worth. And it completes me, something my husband doesn't seem to grasp. something that hurts him somehow.

"I don't know why I got Alzheimer's," Mom said. Maybe it was God's way of giving her family notice that we need to be a family again instead of letting time and space get between us. We don't know each other any more. But this event in our matriarch's life is bringing us back to center. But how do I explain that to her? How do I explain that to anyone? Maybe I should just accept it as a gift and not say anything...just enjoy the nurturing and be a nurturer. And when will everyone accept that this is more important than dollars and cents?

Am I even making sense?