Saturday, March 27, 2010

My Mom is a Zombie, but She Doesn't Want to Eat Me

My mom is like a zombie in many ways: She has very little facial expression now, but just stares straight ahead. Sometimes when people are talking with her, she won't even look at them. She's hunched forward and walks very slowly and stiffly. She can answer questions very briefly but doesn't initiate conversation very much at all. For being a zombie, though, she is still very sweet. She doesn't want to eat me and, in fact, shows no violent tendancies whatsoever. She just watches TV all the time. I don't mean to make light of her condition, but "zombie" is the most accurate picture I can provide. And without some humor, I will lose my mind.

My "real" mom isn't this person at all. My real mom should be planning elaborate parties with delicious food and even costumes. My real mom should be traveling to Europe, dragging my dad with her. She should be canoeing on a lake and hiking in the woods. My real mom should be taking an art class. She should be planning a family Easter dinner and egg hunt for my younger son Isaac. If her house is messy, it should be just because she's been too busy to clean it. My real mom should be preparing her garden to grow a plethora of strawberries, tomatoes, and zuchini. She should be taking her grandchildren to plays and concerts. This is the woman I grew up with. This is who she was until some vague time in late 2008. That seems to be when things started to change. Now I don't even know her anymore. Sometimes she'll look at me and smile, or she'll laugh at something funny Isaac says or does. Then I'll see my real mom for a moment, and I'll think to myself, "Ah, there she is!"

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