I have to go help Mom change her bag today. That is always a little strange experience. I mean, Mom was always invincible, never needed help. Now she needs help and is vulnerable. It is kind of scarey for me. Makes her too human. I never saw an inch of my Mom's skin, now I see too much of it. I'm not complaining, its just that it is wierd to have Mom in such a vulnerable position.
I guess it makes me think that one of these days Mom is going to up and die on me and I dread the day. Mom is my pal and my rock. The world won't be right without her here. It's bad enough with Dad gone, though I've sort of gotten used to it now. But I can't imagine gettting used to the idea of Mom as being dead and gone. She's always been there when I've needed her from the silly things of life to the profound.
I know it is ridiculous to sit here and dread Mom's passing, but that is what bag changing day is for me. A reminder that one of these days she won't be with us any longer. Well, I'd best be getting in the car and head out now.