Back when I was young

My mother died about a year ago (Mother’s Day weekend). We moved her here for her last weeks and she died at our home. I have steadfastly avoided going into her room since then unless I absolutely have to and only for a few seconds at a time. No one else smells it but there has been an odor in there that makes me sad.

Anyway, today, I resolutely decided it was time. I carried in a large trash sack and various boxes to comb through her papers, pictures, jewelry and miscellaneous. I told myself I’d only stay about 15 minutes, then hit it again, in a couple of weeks. Baby steps. I ended up staying about an hour and never noticed a smell. I threw out a lot of trash (old bills, receipts, manuals for small appliances, etc.) I assembled her jewelry into bags and put the pictures all in one place. I found things that had belonged to my grandfather, legal documents and letters from my brother and me. I found one letter that I’d written her when I was about 14 or 15 years old. I was surprised that I haven’t changed all that much, personality-wise.

I found another letter that I wrote to her when I was pregnant with my first child. In the letter, I remarked that my fingers had suddenly swelled so much that I had to take off my rings. A glance at the date told me that I wrote the letter 3 weeks before my son’s birth.

Now, as it turns out, the reason my hands swelled was because I was developing toxemia. I didn’t know at the time what toxemia is and when I wrote the letter, I didn't even know I was sick. The letter was written when I was innocent, ignorant and seventeen. It was an odd feeling, reading that letter with the benefit of years, experience and education. In an odd way, it felt like I was a mother reading a letter from my own child. It was like reading a letter from me, to me.

In reading the letter, I actually experienced the same sense of protectiveness that my own children inspire. Odd and sort of otherworldly, actually. I had an irrational desire to somehow pick up the phone and tell [me] to get to the doctor.

The older I get, the more I understand just how young I was when I was young. I suspect there are a lot of elderly people who would smile and think I am just a whippersnapper, now.