She’s My Baby

Last night, like most nights now, I fed Mama her supper. She doesn’t pick up her spoon much anymore, so I mostly feed her myself and she mostly cooperates.

She tends to study me as she’s eating these days and often reaches out and touches my face or gently taps my arm. Sometimes she asks questions that I can answer. Sometimes she hollers her outrage. Sometimes she speaks garbled words that I don’t understand.

When she finished her meal, last night, I helped her walk down the hall and got her changed all clean and fresh. Then I guided her back down the hall and, holding her gait belt, directed her as she took tiny, shuffling steps to the love seat. She sat down next to Dad, and I tucked her in with a cozy throw blanket.

As I was getting my coat on, to go home to my own supper, I heard Mama say, “She’s my baby.”

And I smiled.

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5 thoughts on “She’s My Baby

  1. Jude Richter says:

    It’s so nice to hear when she says things like that to you Cheryl. I know you miss her the way she was. When we get to heaven, there will be no more Alzheimers and she will run to you with open arms ready to hug you with everything she has. She’ll be bragging all over heaven that you are her baby! 🙂

  2. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing. Was wondering if you’d be interested in letting me include this in a book I’m working on about mothers and children? And/or if you’d be interested in writing a post or answering a series of motherhood-related questions that may appear in the book? Your name, age, and location would be included or you can be anonymous. No worries at all if you’re not interested, just thought I’d check. Thanks, JD.

  3. chermor2 says:

    Thank you, Juni! I’m honored that you’re interested in sharing what I write in a book. I think I will need to decline for now, or at least think about it more, but thank you for thinking of me and for asking! Best wishes on a successful book!

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