A Gift from my Dear Brother
My mother has had diminishing memory for about five years. I am grateful that she is physically healthy, but our entire family is challenged and saddened by her decreasing mental abilities.
Unwittingly, my brother gave me a huge gift involving our mother last weekend. While talking with him yesterday, I asked if he had seen the photos I’ve been sending Mom. With a little snide sibling rivalry, he said, “Yes, seven times. In an hour.”
Recently I’ve been sending inkjet photo prints of our early family life, and I usually tuck in a note with a happy memory
This photo shows the eight-month old Raven in a stroller on Spring Break ’58 in Clearwater, Florida. And yes, I weigh about thirty pounds. Most eight-month-olds are not the size of a small Subaru. With legs like canned hams.
Dear Brother told me that Mom talked to him about this picture and said, “Oh, she was my first baby, and I overfed her. That’s why she’s so heavy.” Some people might take this as insulting. I took it as a gift. While Mom’s memory is clearly diminishing, the mother part of her brain is still in there. Thanks, brother.
I am grateful to know my Mom is still my Mom.
What are you grateful for as we celebrate Thanksgiving next week? Quoth the raven.