Puzzled

During the weekend following the Thanksgiving holiday, we put up our Christmas tree and assorted knick knacks associated with the season. For the first time in a long time, I was really looking forward to Christmas so finding a home for all of the cheesy decorations was not a chore like it had been in years past. I think my change in attitude was directly attributable to the excited anticipation of having my mum come to visit.

And it has been fun. We managed to finish one jigsaw puzzle and nearly completed another but last night as we stared at the last hundred pieces of blue, one indistinguishable from the next, Mum looked up and suggested that we just wreck the damn thing. Otherwise, we'd be up all night, like a couple of obsessive ninnies. So, we did.

My mum and I have some of our very best conversations hunched over a puzzle and this year was no different. There was one discussion, though, that was somewhat unsettling.

I'm not sure how we got started but one night, my mum told us the story about how she had been at home and suddenly, her chest began to hurt. At the same time, she felt pain in her jaw and up the right side of her head. Being a former nurse, Mum thought her symptoms indicated a heart attack. She immediately pounded on her chest and began to cough. Then, she felt something "give" in her head and the pain completely disappeared. She was fine. I asked her if she had been terrified. She said no and that she wasn't the least bit frightened of death. While she was experiencing her little event, she thought, "This is it. This is how I'm going to go", but instead of fear or panic, she was very matter-of-fact and accepting.

My reaction was mixed. On the one hand, it was comforting to know that my mum is satisfied and grateful with the life that she has lived thus far. She stated that she is "ready to go" should that be her fate.

And that is where it got weird and uncomfortable for me.

I don't think of my mother as someone who is in the last third of her life. I can't begin to imagine a day when she might not be healthy. Just about anything that I have learned of any real life value has originated with her. My mum is timeless.

To me.

But the reality, something I've never allowed myself to ponder, is that our time together is no longer an infinite concept and when I imagine a world without my mum in it, I can hardly breathe. That's the circle of life, right? I know. It blows.

Today, I contemplated taking the card table down and stowing it back in the garage where it belongs but decided against it. I have another box full of different jigsaw puzzles and I thought I might just crack it open. Perhaps Olivia or Dylan or manchild will see fit to spend a few minutes occupying the other seat and with a cup of tea in hand, maybe we will find a little something to talk about.