I’ll leave it to history to judge what happened between my oldest sister and my mother. Mom moved in with her after Mom’s husband of thirty-seven years died. Mom and sis lasted about a year or so, and then suddenly, right about the time Michael hit, they parted ways and Mom moved into an apartment. Well, I can’t image someone who has lived in a house with someone for most of her life suddenly moving into an apartment alone. It wasn’t working out, and Mom started talking about moving into an assisted living home. It’s been since 2001 since I lived with another human being, and there hasn’t been anyone in my spare bedroom since I had a party and someone tripped over the stuff in there and fell. Long story, nevermind.
So, March 16th, we moved Mom in with the Mutts and me. She had come to visit a couple of times, to see what had to be done before she could get all her stuff in, and okay, it was a lot. But of all things, I saw coming, and all those I feared I might have missed, Budlore Amadeus, The Dog Life Hanging, adopted my mother.
From the first time she sat down on the sofa, Bud decided this was his human.
There was a lot of work to do to get the place ready for Mom to live in, and we had her stuff and my stuff, all of it, crammed into the house. There was hardly room to move around. It didn’t matter. The Pack rallied around the new person. Bud refused to share her. The first night here, he slept at the end of my Mama’s bed and guarded her.
We’re getting used to living in the same house again. That hasn’t happened since the 70’s, and at eighty-two, you can bet this woman was tossing the dice, big time, moving in with a Hermit who hasn’t shared a kitchen with anyone since Taylor Swift was in diapers. Yet here we are, with one of my most reactive and odd acting dogs, who suddenly decided that he was going to be a pillar of the community or pillar of the pack, and act right.
I took Mom to church last Sunday (Blogged it) and she didn’t like that one so we’re going to try again next Sunday. Mom wants to go to church and until she finds one she likes, I’m pulling escort duty.
In all of the divisive things I have ever written, and there have been times I’ve gone looking for a fight, this is something I bet we can all relate to this in some way. Mom has come home. Decades ago she brought me into this world and took care of me. Now, I have a chance to make sure my Mom spends her Golden Years in comfort and safety, and happy. We’re setting up a paint studio soon so she can paint and draw, and she spends time out on the deck, in the shade listening to the birds and watching the dogs play.
There’s a television my in the house now. That takes some getting used to, certainly.
All I know is an odd and troubled dog now has a mission. How he knew Mom was Mom and not just a guest, I cannot say. But the transition into moving into this house has been softened by the dog at her side.
How she slept her first night in the apartment, I cannot say, but this was her first night here.
My Mama is home. And my pack as risen to protect her and to love her.
This is the most awesome thing that has happened here in many years!
Take Care of your own,