My 96-year-old mom will turn 97 in December. She had three basal cell lesions removed from her face and neck last Monday, and her spirit is still flying high.
My sisters and I are very fortunate. Our mother is happy, hardly ever complains, is very loving, and has a lot of patience. I tell mom she'll live to 120 and break all records.
I really think she has a chance. Her positive and caring disposition, and the smile she carries with her impress all whom she encounters. “Your mom is wonderful,” is what I often hear from others.
What mom calls the “God consciousness in me” carries her through the day. Her affirmations have become a part of her: She is, at the same time, calm, cheerful, hating no one, envying no one, having no worry, having no fear, and trusting in God all the time. That God consciousness fills her with health, with power, with calmness, with peace and, most of all, with happiness.
What does mom do to keep her interest? Well, with macular degeneration severely limiting her sight, and with a severe hearing loss, she still enjoys watching TV on her big screen, listening to audio books, and solving The New York Times crossword puzzle each week on large printouts of the puzzle. Mom enjoys her weekly Tai Chi class, and her discussion group class at the home where she resides.
She resides not within an “institution,” but in a private home, shared with three other women, run by the home for the aging. Each woman has her own bedroom and bath. They enjoy sharing the home’s living room, kitchen and backyard.
It's nice that I'm only a five-minute drive away from mom. I see her on Sunday mornings, and on Tuesdays, and most Friday mornings. Today is Wednesday, and I'll be helping her adjust her Band-Aids to replace the big bandages on her face that will hopefully come off easily this morning during her shower.
Some say that I've never grown up because I still have a mom. Well, that's okay. I don’t mind wondering what it's like to grow up without a mom.
During the grueling years of graduate school, I was often asked, “Why are you so happy?” Now I know why. Thanks, mom.
Mr. Ebsen may be contacted at robertebsen@hotmail.com