A Gray Day at Princeton Towers
I began this gray, rainy day with a trip to the Social Security Administration office, and let me tell you, that was like walking into a Thriller video but without the cool choreography, as my good friend Kathy White said. Mother of God…I was so unsettled by the experience, that I walked out and left my computer bag with my iPad and some precious family photos. Thankfully, a kind security guard brought it right to me when I ran back in the building.
After a quick lunch with my sweet Dan, I spent the afternoon with Mom, helping her with several tasks that had been overwhelming her. Though there were funny moments- I mean, she IS Heavy D, after all- I left her apartment with tears close to the surface. She was very frazzled today, starting to say or do something, and immediately forgetting what she had planned to say or do. She realized it, and was frustrated with herself, and kept telling me that she was losing it, that she wasn’t long for this world. Her color was bad, and she just looked so old, so tired. We took some pictures, and when she said she looked so old, so ugly, I kissed her and assured her she was absolutely beautiful.
She told me several times where she was putting the paperwork for her cremation and other important documents that I would need when she passed away. I know that I need to know these things, but with her seeming so fragile mentally and physically today, it was difficult to hear. I am not ready for her to go…I never will be.
She read through two beautiful new cards from her fan club that came today, and showed me the beautiful books that Barbara Berney made and sent to both Mom and me. Mom said again and again what a gift her fan club has been to her, making her feel so special. My friends of the OGBF have no idea what impact their kindness has had on my mother. You have brought a spark back to Mom that had dwindled with the recent difficulties she has had. I am also overwhelmed at the good that this group does for each other, and feel humbled to be a member.
I helped Mom write out bills, delivered her rent, did some house chores, and spoke with Janet, the Program Director at Princeton Towers about help with finding a good place to get a motorized chair for Mom. Her doctor is afraid that she will lose what limited mobility she has if we get a chair for her, but it is getting to the point that it is painful for me to watch her try to get around with her walker. She is also losing her balance more and more. The chair will give Mom and me peace of mind, and will give her the courage to get out of her apartment more. And…if her walker is any indication, I can’t wait to see how she pimps out her new ride.
Before I left, I helped check her face. She can’t stand for anything to get in her wrinkles, and she can’t see well enough to do this herself. It is always a tender moment to me, as I gently hold my mom’s sweet, soft face and look carefully at it. She, of course, makes jokes at this point, telling me she could grow a vegetable garden on her face. Once I stopped laughing, I continued to look at this weathered visage that I love so much, give her the all clear, and kiss her forehead.
She won’t be with me forever physically, but Heavy D will always, always be in my heart.