While rooting around in our basement for our daughter's baby items that our son-to-be might find useful, I found the lost half of the baby monitor that we used back then. It was in a 30 gallon black trash bag with about 3 gallons of things that had nothing to do with each other besides the fact that they were originally found in our bedroom before we moved.
This reminded me of Mom because long before, when she was alive, she'd asked me to find this for her. She was already having trouble walking, and they thought a baby monitor would be a good way for my stepfather to listen for her when he was elsewhere in the house. At the time, I could only find one of the pair, and this was a great weight on me.
I recall being in the dark of the basement searching high and low for the other half of the baby monitor set. My mom was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it. They'd asked for this one thing, and I was sure I had it here somewhere, but I couldn't find it. This small way to help, I could not manage.
I looked and I looked, but I only ever found the one half. I can still feel feeble.
Here it is, nearly a year after her death, and this small item can churn up those memories. There's not really any shame in what happened, but I still feel guilt.
1 comment:
This post makes me very sad. It reminds me the frequent feeling of hopelessness I had while she was sick. Because no matter how many things I did to help around the house, etc. it could never yield my true desired results. As if meeting any of her and Beaver's needs could have cured her but it was all I could do to make the best of the situation for the two of them.
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