My mom, as they all do eventually, has been getting older and declining in some ways. At first it was slow and gradual but lately it's speeded up. She had a mini-stroke last week and maybe another one this week. She recovered quickly; apparently that's what usually happens. But it's affected her balance, which wasn't great anyway. And she has moments of confusion. She's doing a short stint in rehab but after that she's not going to be able to live alone in her apartment any more. My brother has found a place for her and wonder of wonders, she actually likes it, which is weird because she complains about pretty much everything.
At any rate, I've been thinking a lot about mortality lately. I know, join the club. I'm actually fine with dying -- my dying, anyway. That doesn't scare me at all. It's the falling apart that can precede it. If it were my cat that was declining, I wouldn't have a second thought. I would want to spare it the illness and discomfort. Unfortunately that's not an option when it comes to people. I hope by the time I get to that point, I'll be able to say "okay, I'm done" and someone will put me to sleep.
The other aspect of this situation is that my mother is, well, kind of a moron. My brother says she's always been one. I think that getting older has brought out this quality (or anti-quality) in her. But she's always been very emotionally needy, and never satisfied whatever is done for her. Of course we'll continue to take care of her regardless. But if she had, over the years, managed to build up some reservoir of good will, I'd do it much more willingly. I suppose that if I actually enjoyed spending time with my mother, I'd feel differently, but now it's just a chore.
But back to the whole mortality thing. After I die, what I'd really like is for my ashes to be sent into space and released there. I think it would be only appropriate. Not that I'll know. But I'd like it a lot.
