A quick entry, just to say that I’ve posted at least once in August.
I continue to visit my mother three times each week. Some days I find her settled, other days–like today–find her agitated. She’s usually fretting about someone she cannot quite identify. Today it was someone named “Lily” (the name of my recently-departed dog) who might be coming for supper, but my mother didn’t have any money and what should she do if Lily didn’t show up?
I can tell within seconds of arriving what her mood is. On days like today she is enormously relieved to see me, as if I am bringing with me the answer to all her worries. When she realizes that I am not, her expression tightens. I try to change the subject, to reassure her that I will take care of things, but I can’t break the spell. “Don’t you ever see them?” she asks. “What happened to them?”
My doctor has increased my antidepressant and added something to help me sleep. I’m not crazy about taking sleep remedies but I am also not crazy about finding myself beyond exhaustion by the end of the week. I thought I’d be on more of an even keel at this point but the waters are still choppy. Maybe my expectations were too high. Or maybe I’m catching up on the grief.