Dear Diary,

This will most likely be the summer I will always remember. Mom has survived her near death experience and is at the end of her journey. I don’t know how many days are left in the season.

 Days to discover more about each other, days to forgive and forget. Days to keep her happy, alert, and as healthy as she can be while respecting her wishes.

I strive to make every day of this unusual situation as normal as it can be. As well as to give her something to look forward to on each and every one of those days.

My dogs are as committed as I to this mission. Buddha Bear sleeps next to Mom at night, listening for changes in her breathing, in her heartbeat. Big Boy has the door covered. No one will get in, no one will leave. At least not through that door.

I am on the floor or very near to Mom’s bed. Listening like Buddha, guarding like Big Boy.

I volunteered for this. I wanted to do it for my mother. To be there for her at the end of camp. I knew it would stretch me. And her, too. I am now beginning to see how much.

I never had the experience of bringing home a new-born from the hospital and learning to live in a new routine. But I believe I know what that must feel like. But this adjustment is for two. We both have to offer, try, politely refuse, compromise, and adjust. I realize I have added the precious responsibility of caring for my mother to my ongoing responsibilities to my career, my dogs, my fish, and the squirrels in my yard.

I have discovered that I can do things I never thought possible, let alone, do them. I do ‘haus frau’ work in the hours before she wakes – the laundry, ironing, cleaning up, meal preparation, medication sorting, dog walking, and bathing.

All before she rises and the day really begins, switching gears to facilitating her wants and needs. And talking about the past and the future. Then I prepare traditional Swedish breakfasts on the side patio. Take a nap with my Mom and my dogs. Prepare lunch. Work while Mom and the dogs partake of the afternoon siesta. Then dinner, talk, bed, and get ready for the early morning start tomorrow.

Yes, these will be the hazy days of my summer. But they will also be the Days of New Learning. The Days of New Reality.

And I wonder. Have you had similar experiences? If so, what did you learn? What do you carry with you that makes your life better?

If you could share one learning point with one person, what would it be?

For me, I have learned that I can do and be what I must. In spite of what I once considered to be my limitations. I have discovered I can love where once there was an absense of love.

But mostly, I have discovered I still have much to learn before Summer Camp is over.

PS. When I asked Mom what she thought of living here with me, she said, “At least it’s not boring!” I laughed until I cried.