Thursday, June 17, 2010
A Rainy Trip to Ohio
Really and truly, I think that it always rains in Ohio. It has become a constant joke that each and every time I visit the rain clouds come out. So, I wasn't surprised that as I crossed the border from Pennsylvania into Ohio the moisture began to accumulate on my windshield. Wasn't surprised but definitely disappointed. Yet, rain or not I was here to spend a few days with my mom. And, that is what I did.
Growing old isn't as graceful for some as we would wish. Sadly, my mom is one that has aged in a less than kind way. Parkinson's has taken more from her golden years than should be fair. I wish it would be different but wishing doesn't make things so. Still and yet, I was here for a whirlwind visit and rain or no rain we were going to do something fun.
Gratefully, my nursing background gives me the knowledge on how to transfer mom from wheelchair to car. So, off we went on a little excursion. We traveled around the old town. Drove by the old homestead. Time has not be kind to that neighborhood either. We passed by the university and saw the new stadium and dorms. Thankfully, this once vibrant manufacturing town has a growing university to fill the empty spaces. Soon, we found ourselves at P.F. Changs because Mom had a hankering for Chinese food. While she didn't quite understand why there were no Chinese people (servers) in the Chinese restaurant, nonetheless, she enjoyed the food. Every good meal should be followed by a yummy dessert and soon we were parked in front of our favorite frozen custard stand. A few more stops and we were back "home".
"Home". It doesn't seem right to call this place "home" but for her right now, that is what it is. All my best promises and intentions meant nothing when Parkinson's and dementia came knocking. What I am left with is a good bit of sadness, a tad bit of guilt and a lot of gratefulness that Mom is happy where she is.
The raindrops weren't falling when I left Ohio - only my tears. So, all you Buckeyes put away your umbrellas and hand me a kleenex, please.
© A Sacred Longing 2009-2010