Momma Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

     Tuesday mornings I visit with mom. I'll give it to you right off the bat...Mom has cancer. The big C. Which means, you guessed it...I have to be nice to her, even though she's my mom. Even when she says "Did you comb your hair this morning? It doesn't look like it." I can't say "You're just jealous I have hair!" Actually I can. I think. I'm pretty sure we have that relationship, but it can be tricky sometimes.
     Sometimes I show up and clean the bathroom and wash the dishes. Sometimes we just sit and talk then go to lunch. Sometimes she's not even there and I vacuum, re-organize her pantry and clean her fridge. Sometimes we go get a pedicure. Sometimes she calls and tells me not to come. Sometimes that's a relief. Because sometimes she says, "Did you try on those jeans I gave you?" and I say, "No, mom, they're a size 16." and she says, "But they'll stretch." I'm a size 12 by the way...and I'm not ashamed to tell you that. But I am ashamed to tell you that mom wears me out sometimes.
     And sometimes she goes to Florida or Vermont or somewhere and she's not there for three or four Tuesdays and I miss her and I wonder what it will be like to never have her again and then I stop wondering because it hurts too much to wonder that.
     "How's your mom doing?" takes on a whole new meaning for me now.
     How's your mom doing? "She's doing okay." "She's having a bad day." "She's not doing very well." "She's dying..." There I said it. She told me recently that the doctor told her she will actually live longer than he originally expected but she'll be in a lot more pain. Huh. Reminds me of the worm the boys "saved" from burning in the sun on the driveway. They brought it onto the porch and put it on the table. One of the cats ate half of it. It lived longer but it's in a lot more pain. Huh.