you can call me Mariarose

What a difference from last week.
Last week Mom spewed "Hate you!! Go to hell!! Shit!! Shit!! Shit!!" for hours.
Yesterday was so different.

When I got to Mom's place yesterday, she was resting on her bed, as she usually does after lunch. Her bed is her safe place. I got her up and we walked out to the common room. I couldn't get her to go outside, through the French doors, she was too scared. "No! No! No!"  I sat her down at a table, facing away from the doors and away from the "old people" sitting in the courtyard.

We were looking at travel books of places she had visited in Europe. As I've heard all her stories before, and with the help of captions, I talk about all the places she had seen. "Oh, yes. Yes. Yes of course." she would agree. But she asks me over and over "You too? Did you come? Were you there?"  And over and over I tell her that she traveled with Dad or her cousin while I was home with my babies.

We look again at the book "Baby Love." Mom starts to cry. "I want some babies."
"You had some babies, you had two babies, they are all grown up now." She stares at me with confusion on her face.
"Don't lie to me."
 I show her a picture of my brother from his last visit. "This is your baby, EJ. This is your son EJ.  He's all grown-up now. Look at his big fuzzy mustache. Look he's hugging you, he loves you. You're the mommy and he's your son."  There was no recognition. "You lie to me." She is not buying my story.
We continue to look at the beautiful babies in the book. "I want some babies. You have babies?"
"Yes, I had two babies, SJ and DB, two boys, your grandsons, SJ and DB. They are all grown up now.  You had two babies and I had two babies."
"Are you my sister? We're sisters?" she asks again and again.
"You're my mommy and I'm your daughter."  Her face is screwed up in concentration and disbelief.
"We're sisters? Don't lie to me." over and over.
"I'm your daughter and you're my mommy."  I'm ready to burst into tears, she is so lost. 
"You can call me Mariarose."
Her face gets all soft, her eyes light up. There is an expression on her face I remember from long ago. She puckers her lips and reaches out her arms.  I go to hug her, she rests her head on my shoulder, she is peppering my shoulder with kisses and words "love you, love you, love you, love you..." she is crying.

These words, words that I have not heard from my Mother since the time "before". This was a gift from God.

"It's ok Mommy, you don't have to cry, It's ok Mommy, I love you too." I rock her in my arms and let her cry.