one sharp broad

My mother had a procedure on Friday, and my whole weekend has been wrapped up in staying on top of her post-op med regimen and helping her late at night. I didn’t feel the enormity of the situation until after the procedure, when I had to help her get her clothes on. 

My mother is an extremely strong woman, who doesn’t believe in days off. She’s always tackling a project, always active. She rarely drinks and almost never eats out. She keeps a completely spotless house, which she always re-decorates seasonally (she made all the curtains as well). She is exceptional at saving money and is always on top of her finances. She loves to talk on the phone, and keeps in touch with many friends and family.

When she travels to Dominican Republic, she’s practically a socialite; when we call her there, she’s never around, always off visiting folks and taking random trips with her brother or other close friends there. I think that if she were more technologically minded and were of the facebook generation, she’d love Twitter parties and would have hundreds of friends on social media. (She doesn’t give a shit about anything tech-y, but my ultimate goal is to get her on an iPad because I think she may enjoy that.)

So, it has floored me to watch her be taken down by the pain of this operation. She moans for her own mother at these points, who passed away 29 years ago and there is nothing I can do. I am powerless.  

I know it is just her body healing and eventually the pain will subside and she won’t be in a haze of Percoset anymore. She’ll be back to her old self, running the house, watching her Brazilian soaps at the end of the day (those are her favorite because they are either historical romances and provide some educational value or they are much better written and edgier than the Mexican ones that dominate Univision), and never slowing down.