My mother is still alive, but her mind really isn't. Not sure I would have moved to Portugal four years ago had I known she (and other family) would be unable/unwilling to visit.
If I run across hollyhock seeds, I'll get them and they'll bloom in the Azores because of your mom.
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing it, LaDonna. There are so many versions of this story, all of them so painful. My father no longer knows who I am or where I live. My mother, totally sharp, can't come to visit me here in Portugal because she is caring for my stepfather, who can't really get around and wouldn't want to if he could. So she dreams of visiting me, and I dream of her visits, which will probably never happen. This is not an easy time of life.
What a touching tribute. I am much closer to your mother's age than to yours, and lost my own mother 6 years ago. But I am still her daughter, still miss her. She was a gardener, too. Thanks for your beautiful writing.
You have a knack for regularly making me cry LaDonna ;-( I believe that is a good thing! I lost my Mom to cancer when I was only 35. I miss/think of her daily, but I can only imagine how hard this is for you...
Maybe one of these days you can check out my patio garden here in Lisboa ;-) It is where I feel closest to my Mom.
This piece made everything stop - gave me the opportunity to think about my mother who is also in the downward spiral of dementia. I am reminiscing about when she was healthier and am now smiling. Thanks!
Thanks for reading and I'm sorry about your mother. Dementia is the cruelest thing. Thank you for telling me this made everything stop. That's a huge compliment; I treasure it. Thanks, also for supporting my work with your wallet. I'm humbled, I'm grateful, I can't even tell you how much.
As a fellow American who also now lives in Portugal, I am so happy I found your blog. Your writing is captivating and your views of the world often mirror my own. Thank you for sharing your light and gift. May your mother feel your love, even in that cruel fog. She sounds amazing and badass.
Wow. Thank you for sharing. And what a lovely thing she would do for you. So memorable. And nice.
It made me think of something...
I feel like the character in my story past his upward trajectory and on the downward slope of his character arc. And that's not a bad thing. It's life; in all its wonderment of a youthful bright morning and its contemplativeness brought on by a waning sun. But it makes me think of all the gurus and ads and people cheering you along the way - upward and onward, always!!! But on the way down, with sick moms and dads, and relatives who are not as spry and agile and with it as in your memories of them..... you're alone. There are wonderful support groups, of course, but I don't think the bus that whizzed by with that scantily clad twenty something in a bikini was advertising them. Or maybe I just need to improve my Portuguese.
Love this story. Your tribute reminds me of manila envelopes stuffed with coupons and articles clipped from Los Angeles Times and Sunset magazine with her indecipherable notes in the margins. Manila envelopes stuffed with love and thoughtfulness.
What a lovely story and what a wonderful memory you will always have of your dear mother. My mom has been gone eight years. We were not close, but I still miss her.
What a poignant tribute to your mama. I could feel the love and yearning for her. Beautifully written as always, and deeply moving. After reading this I miss her too.
This hits.
My mother is still alive, but her mind really isn't. Not sure I would have moved to Portugal four years ago had I known she (and other family) would be unable/unwilling to visit.
If I run across hollyhock seeds, I'll get them and they'll bloom in the Azores because of your mom.
Not gonna lie, Marshall, your comment got me a bit choked up thinking of hollyhocks in the Azores. Thank you.
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing it, LaDonna. There are so many versions of this story, all of them so painful. My father no longer knows who I am or where I live. My mother, totally sharp, can't come to visit me here in Portugal because she is caring for my stepfather, who can't really get around and wouldn't want to if he could. So she dreams of visiting me, and I dream of her visits, which will probably never happen. This is not an easy time of life.
Thank you. Sorry about your dad. And your mom. And your stepfather, too. You're right, it is not an easy time.
What a touching tribute. I am much closer to your mother's age than to yours, and lost my own mother 6 years ago. But I am still her daughter, still miss her. She was a gardener, too. Thanks for your beautiful writing.
Thanks for reading--and for letting me know you like it.
You have a knack for regularly making me cry LaDonna ;-( I believe that is a good thing! I lost my Mom to cancer when I was only 35. I miss/think of her daily, but I can only imagine how hard this is for you...
Maybe one of these days you can check out my patio garden here in Lisboa ;-) It is where I feel closest to my Mom.
You know I love it when I make people cry.
Sorry you've lost your Mom. Doesn't matter how or when, there's always going to be an ache, isn't there? I'm sure she would have loved your patio.
This piece made everything stop - gave me the opportunity to think about my mother who is also in the downward spiral of dementia. I am reminiscing about when she was healthier and am now smiling. Thanks!
Thanks for reading and I'm sorry about your mother. Dementia is the cruelest thing. Thank you for telling me this made everything stop. That's a huge compliment; I treasure it. Thanks, also for supporting my work with your wallet. I'm humbled, I'm grateful, I can't even tell you how much.
This story floored me. What an honest tender voice. Congratulations on this beautiful piece.
Thanks, Ananda. Big love to you!
Just beautiful. And poignant. Thanks for sharing.
You never cease to draw me in and make me feel. Beautiful, LaDonna.
Thanks, Cynthia.
Beautiful story!
As a fellow American who also now lives in Portugal, I am so happy I found your blog. Your writing is captivating and your views of the world often mirror my own. Thank you for sharing your light and gift. May your mother feel your love, even in that cruel fog. She sounds amazing and badass.
Thanks, Christie. She was indeed amazing and badass. Now she feels like a strange new alien.
Beautiful--you show the depth of your loss through the heights of your mother's nurturing, both of you and of the world.
High praise. Thank you.
Wow. Thank you for sharing. And what a lovely thing she would do for you. So memorable. And nice.
It made me think of something...
I feel like the character in my story past his upward trajectory and on the downward slope of his character arc. And that's not a bad thing. It's life; in all its wonderment of a youthful bright morning and its contemplativeness brought on by a waning sun. But it makes me think of all the gurus and ads and people cheering you along the way - upward and onward, always!!! But on the way down, with sick moms and dads, and relatives who are not as spry and agile and with it as in your memories of them..... you're alone. There are wonderful support groups, of course, but I don't think the bus that whizzed by with that scantily clad twenty something in a bikini was advertising them. Or maybe I just need to improve my Portuguese.
Love this story. Your tribute reminds me of manila envelopes stuffed with coupons and articles clipped from Los Angeles Times and Sunset magazine with her indecipherable notes in the margins. Manila envelopes stuffed with love and thoughtfulness.
Here's to the moms with their manila envelopes, huh?
Wow. What a beautifully written expression of the love for your mother and the loss and grief you feel. Thank you for sharing this with your readers.
What a lovely story and what a wonderful memory you will always have of your dear mother. My mom has been gone eight years. We were not close, but I still miss her.
What a poignant tribute to your mama. I could feel the love and yearning for her. Beautifully written as always, and deeply moving. After reading this I miss her too.
Thanks, Elisse.