One of my biggest disappointments in life is never having children. I believed one day I would grow out of it, the feeling of knowing I missed out on something magical, but so far that has proven untrue. It is not as if I lament daily on the topic, but it does show up in my heart now and again. Having mother living with me has made those occasional moments of regret more frequent.

The bond I have with my mother despite her dementia, proves it is one of the constants in life on which I can always depend. I will miss sharing that in my life when my mother is gone. But today that bond is alive and well, as was recently witnessed in a series of unfortunate events that befell me, only to have my mother wanting to come to my rescue with each passing event.

It started with the news that my new job, one that I had hoped would springboard me into more opportunities into my retirement years, will be ending in a few weeks. I was understandably upset by this unexpected turn of events and it was evident to my mother.  She asked me about it so I filled her in on the gist of what was happening so she could understand my disappointment.

After hearing the overview she looked at me and said “I know you must be disappointed but something else will come along for you.  In the meantime you know you can come and live with me until you get a new job.” I laughed but was touched and thanked mom for her generosity, not wanting to spoil the moment by pointing out the obvious.

As frequently happens during times of stress, I promptly got the most miserable head cold with the accompanying severe cough and congestion. My mother hovered with each sneeze and hacking cough asking could she bring me a drink of water and reminding me to let her know how she could help. She was very sweet and thoughtful.

Then, as I was having one of the most miserable few days in recent memory, the trifecta of bad news presented itself in short order. Because as we know bad things always happen in threes! Mom was sitting enjoying the sun on the back deck. I walked passed her to the steps that lead off the deck onto a flagstone pathway in the backyard. As I stepped down my foot landed on the edge of a flagstone paver, my ankle buckled under and the full force of my weight drove it into the ground. I heard a crack reminiscent of a baseball hitting a bat, and I folded writhing in pain onto the ground.

As I rolled around on the ground, spewing profanities and grasping my ankle, my mother rushed over to help. As my frail 81 year old savior kept trying to bend over and help me up, even in my fog of pain I recognized a potential for a double disaster. I called out for her to just give me a minute and I was able to compose myself enough to stop my protestation of agony and sit up.

Although mother’s caregiver had already left for the day, as luck had it Kathy was already home from work and somewhere in the house.  However my exclamations from the backyard had not sent her running, so she was still unaware of my dilemma and  I clearly could not stand on my own.

Not wanting to scream her name at the top of my lungs, for fear neighbors would come running to assist as well, my only option was sending my mother into the house to retrieve Kathy.  This may sound simple but mom has a very difficult time with direction.  She can be standing in front of a roll of paper towels in the kitchen and as I try to instruct her on which white thing on the counter is the object she is looking for, mom will grab the salt shaker, a white coffee mug, etc. until her hand lands on the correct item and I say “Bingo you got it!”

But limited by my choice of trusting mom with direction or crawling on my hands and knees with her hovering to try and help me up, I chose the former.  I calmly asked mom could she please go into the house and get Kathy to come and help me. Mom asked me a few times for clarity what I wanted until she seemed to get it.  Then I watched her walk through the backdoor and heard mom call out “Kathy can you come hear please, Monica needs you!” Wow! You could have knocked me over with a feather, that is if I wasn’t already lying on the ground.  Kathy immediately came to assist me in standing up and with one supporting me on each side,  we hobbled into the house together.

New jobs will come, head colds clear and broken ankles (yes I broke it) heal with time. But one thing never changes and that is once a mother always a mother. It is nice to know even in her altered state I can still occasionally depend on mine, especially when it really counts!