Last night was just as aweful as I imagined it would be. The furneral home director came to the door and handed me a black plastic square box the size of a coffee can. I looked at it and thought this can't be what used to me my mother. I cried.
I tried to do my homework but the black box kept coming to mind. I watched Idol. I didn't enjoy it or do I care who wins tonight. I finally just went to bed.
This morning I forgot to feed my cat. Poor cat. I will feed him when I get home tonight. It looked like rain so I took my umbrella with me and I went to my favorite place to walk. It took me 15 minutes longer to walk. I wasn't trying to walk fast. I just walked. Actually, I feel better. The walks HAVE to be a part of my days for awhile.
I thought about this or that. I wondered who first thought of ghosts. How did the myth of ghosts get started? or mummys, or zombies. Who started turning death into something ugly? I wanted to feel Mom close. I didn't today. I have though and I'm sure I will again. I will welcome the sense of her. I hung the windchime I bought for her while she was in the nursing home in front of my office window. I get pleasure making it chime as I walk by. I smile as I listen to the tinkling and watch the prisms dance. For now ANY little thing that reminds me of her brings me pleasure. The other stuff I just shut it down.
a journal about keeping the memories of my mother who suffers with Lewy Body Dementia
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