Sundays are the day we visit Mom. Of course we visit her more than once a week, and various members of our family make a point to drop by and see her at various times to cheer her up, but also to check up on her and report back any changes.
There have been changes. Those of us that see her frequently may not notice them as much, but the family that come from out of town remark on them.
And so much depends on the time of day that we pay our visit. Mom is 94, and she is tired of it. It shows in her face, in shows in the way she can no longer hold her head up straight. It shows in how often she asks, "I don't understand why I can't just go home."
It is hard to watch someone you love, someone who you have fond memories of laughing together and doing so many unimportant things with, having lost her love for life. Living has become a chore to her, something she is wishing she could just be through with and go out to play.
I think of it like that, because I know she is thinking that there must be more to look forward to than her liquid diet and the daily loss of dignity when others come in and decide for you when to dress, when to eat, and if you can shower that day.
I have to be honest... I am not looking forward to that day.