Anticipation

Just when I think I have become accustomed to my mother's new life in the Nursing Home it hits me again, this overwhelming alteration in her life, alteration in our lives. Tonight my husband and I spent our evening packing for our vacation. A relatively simple task, exciting certainly, but simple nonetheless. In the midst of my choices of which shirt to pack, which pair of shoes, which necklace I was struck by the knowledge that as much as my mother loved to travel she will never again know the pleasure of this anticipation of a trip.

I took this knowledge and attempted to mold it so it would give me permission to enjoy my packing, heighten my anticipation of the week ahead. It didn't work. I still packed and I am still anticipating our time away but it is with an overlay of sadness. A sadness that I'm sure will lift once we are on our way, once the sun of San Juan rests on my shoulders, once my feet dip into Caribbean water. So now I leave for the week thankful that my husband and I have the opportunity to take this trip but saddened by the fact that when I return my mother will not remember that I was gone.