It’s been a tough year for everyone, and my family has been hit hard. The crash of the economy has all but dissolved our daughters college fund, and my Mother has cancer. This might be our last Christmas with her. After nearly 2 years of chemo-she is hardly the same person, physically or mentally. Then there is Dad, who has done a great job of taking care of her. He needs something great too. And my brother who lives in the same small city as my parents do-who does the grocery shopping, yard work, holiday decorating, etc.- deserves a vacation. If I could afford to, I would send him someplace great, like fishing in New Zeland.
As it is though, I am not able to do that, and as my brother he understands that treating him this year is not my top priority. Looking for a way to treat Mom is.
Of course, as a family, we have spent the last 20 months thinking of the things that we won’t have the chance to do together. Mom and I always talked about opening a business together. We always talked about going to Paris together. These are things that always held promise, things to hold on to when our present day lives were not living up to our expectations.
My Mother and I have always made the effort to travel together in the past, and she is the best possible companion. Our annual shopping trips to San Francisco, were wonderful and helped me stay sane when my kids were little. Today, cancer has made her so weak that she is unable to travel.
Mom will be off of chemo for the next two months, and while a long flilght to Europe is off of the table, we are hoping that she will get stronger, and that we will be able to take a short trip to New York to see the Met. Though we have both been to New York, neither of us has had the time to thoroughly scour the museum.
A few weeks ago, I bought Mom a silver tree ornament shaped like the Empire State building. This was my intended Christmas gift to her, which I bought hoping to help her look forward into her future, past chemo and possibly even past cancer. A future trip filled with art, theater and shopping.
The ornament has been sitting on my desk since I bought it, and as I look at it now, I don’t feel the hope that the gift was intended to bring. I feel sad and afraid. Sad that there are so many things that we won’t do, and afraid that she might not be able to make this one last trip. I hope that when Christmas day arrives, I will be able to present the ornament to her with joy, and give her something to look forward to. Just in case though, I’ll keep working on the scarf I’m knitting for her.
