Mom and I were best friends. We laughed together, traveled together, and talked nearly every day. She was my biggest supporter and #1 fan.
When she passed away from Alzheimer’s, it wasn’t unexpected.
Someone found her recipe box and gave it to me.
Here we were at a crowded market in the Middle East. I had gone for a dance seminar, and Mom went with me. We had a blast.
She bought me a fabulous hand-beaded costume:
When her dementia increased, but she was still able to speak and knew her name and my name, I took her on one last trip. I knew the window of travel was closing. I chose a cruise ship because I figured she couldn’t wander too far.
One night she got up to go to the bathroom and accidentally opened the wrong door. She was suddenly in the hallway and got very turned around because everything looked the same. I woke up, realized she wasn’t in the cabin, and started pulling on clothes. About that time, the phone rang. Someone had taken her to the concierge desk. I raced to get her. After that, I piled suitcases in front of the cabin door every night.
It was a fantastic trip. We did a lot of excursions and laughed a lot.
There are days I want to call and talk to her. I miss her so much.