Pieces of My Mother

TW: Mention a parent's death and parent with NCD

Nova put the car in park and relaxed her shoulders. The building gets more daunting every time she comes here, but the idea of never coming back; unthinkable. So, Nova twisted her keys made her way to the all too familiar building, and made her feet carry her to the front desk to sign in. 

The small talk with the receptionist was the same as always, just like everything in here. Routine and practice, but it made sense why even the workers were like that. Nova peeled off the sticky visitor's pass and pushed it on the sweatshirt that protected her from the crisp air. It was 2:15, so it was free time if she remembered correctly. So, her tattered Converse squeaked as she made her way back to the lounge. 

It was a short walk before the lounge appeared and the messy braid playing checkers caught her eye and she made her way over. Aware of the necessity to be careful, Nova made sure she was in sight before placing her hand on the woman’s shoulder and saying hello.

“Oh, Nova, what are you doing here? Did we have plans?”

“No Mom, it’s alright,” she knelt down to be eye level with the adoring woman she loved, “I just thought I would surprise you.”

The woman’s eyes steadied, the worry leaving her face, “Oh goodness what a nice surprise. Have you met Alma?” she used her hand to guide Nova’s view to the woman sitting across from her.

Nova used her practiced smile to, once again, introduce herself to the women for probably the 10th time. “Are you ready or would you like to change?”

“Nope I’m all set,” she said while rising herself from the chair, “Sorry Alma, we will have to finish this another time.”

“No problem Celine.”

Nova slipped her arm through her mother’s as they made their way toward the courtyard. Her mother’s grip was firm and steady, a small reassurance that grounded her.

 “Do you remember going to the park and feeding the duck when you were little?”

“Yeah, faintly,” Nova smiles as she gets ready to hear the story her mother tells her once a week for the past three months.

They stop at the bench by the pond and sit to watch the ducks and Koi in the pond, “You loved feeding the ducks. You would save the crusts of your sandwiches to feed them, without realizing they would mold.”

Celine chuckles, but Nova can only muster a smile. She loves her mom and adores her actually, but she can only act original so many times. 

“I was 6 how was I supposed to know.”

“You loved those ducks,” Celine said softly, and Nova saw her trying to find a memory, any memory that she could connect with, but she drew a blank. 

“You should come by more often, sweetie, I miss seeing you,” she says as she clasps her daughter’s hand tightly.

Nova rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I will, Mom. I always will.”

They sat there in silence that was interrupted, occasionally, by Celine’s occasional humming. But, Nova’s head was screaming and running wild. When she was little, Nova’s mom would bring her to the park every Sunday after church, while her dad would stay and help clean up the brunch. They would walk over in their Sunday best with her mother’s purse full of bread and Nova’s pockets stuffed to the brim. They would walk to the pond, hand in hand, and take off their shoes to dip their feet in to feed the ducks. Her mom would have to trade her bread because Nova’s bread was “so much better”, but her mom didn’t have the heart to tell her that her bread would make the ducks sick. It was time for just them, and it was the highlight of Nova’s week. Her mother’s smile would brighten the entire room, frankly it would brighten the entire day. But, that smile hasn’t been seen in a long, long time. 

Nova couldn’t help being mad. Though, she wasn’t sure who she was angry at. Her mom didn’t choose to be sick and couldn’t help the fact that she didn’t remember the inside jokes they once shared, or how she would make fun of Nova for taking her coffee black because she ‘was already sweet enough’. She had no choice but to cherish those memories enough for the two of them because what other choice did she have. The only option she had left was to be mad at herself. Mad that she didn’t see the signs earlier, that she waited so long before getting her mom the help she needed. 

Ever since dad died, neither of them were the same, and the Celine started to act strange. At first, Nova thought it was her way of grieving, acting like she didn’t remember dad’s silver watch that she got him for their anniversary. Or forgetting simple plans like doctor’s appointments and dinner plans with friends. Nova realized that it wasn’t normal grief when she came over to mom setting the table for three people. 

Nova was confused and asked her mother what she was doing and why she wasn’t ready to go. It was the anniversary of her father’s death, and they were planning to go visit his grave.

“I’m getting dinner ready sweetie, pot roast your father’s favorite.”

“Okay we can eat before we go but who’s joining us?”

“Don’t be silly, Nova, it’s Wednesday; family dinner night.”

It was Wednesday, but they haven’t had family dinners together in months. A few weeks later, they received the dementia diagnose. Nova tried and tried to take care of her mom, but she couldn’t. After a trip to the ER because of mom falling when she was home by herself, the doctors recommended putting her in a home. Nova refused at first because she didn’t want to lose the only family she had left, but what she didn’t realize is that she lost her mom a while ago. 

The reason Nova loved the ducks so much is that they reminded her of her mom. Graceful and collected above the surface, yet beneath, their unseen effort mirrored her mom’s relentless drive to keep up with her wild child and the world. But now, Nova is watching her mom’s paddles slow down, with the chaos of life reduced to scattered memories and half-formed thoughts. Her once bright smile now dimmed, her words now uncertain instead of full of wit that caused laughter to follow her around.

Nova took her arm and pulled her mother close to her, because she refused to think only of what was. She can’t control the past or future, but she can control the now. And she can be mad all she wants, but right now she just wants her mom, and she has her. It may not be the same vivid woman who gave told her stories of the Dalmatian Detective or the fairy who would steal socks, but it was her in a way. Someone who loved her unconditionally, and it would be enough. Nova had enough memories for the both of them. So they could focus on the present because anytime left with her is the greatest gift she could wish for.