Maternal (Eternal) Instinct

Mom has now moved from the cold hospital and back to the cozy board and care home. Her caregivers at the board and care have been so loving to her all the years she has been there. When she came back "home" her favorite caregiver welcomed her back to the "family" and told her he had missed her. That one gesture told me in my heart that I had done the right thing bringing her back to the board and care instead of trying to move her to a skilled nursing facility. She is now considered to be in hospice care-a label I have had a hard time adjusting to because of its possible meaning. The nurse from the hospice facility assures me that some people actually move out of hospice and do not need it after a few months. I want to believe her, but every day I come to visit Mom that hope seems to move father away from me.

Nevertheless, as I sit by her bedside everyday I cannot help thinking about the role of mothers and where those feelings reside. Please excuse anything that seems philosophically, scientifically, or theologically unsound in the following musings. Maternal instinct appears to be a powerful force in nature. In humans, I feel, the innate instinct is nurtured by mothers through their modeling of the role of mother. That does not mean that women who were denied the example of their mothers cannot be good mothers, but it could be a harder task. So what is the point of all of this blather about maternal instinct? I believe that maternal instinct is entwined in the soul of each mother and does not leave until she herself breathes her last breath. I will tell you how I know this by the end of my few thoughts.

I do not recall that I had thought much about maternal instinct until I became a Catholic. As a Catholic I became fascinated with the many artistic portrayals of Mary as a mother. To me, artists throughout time had depicted Mary as the ideal mother. After all, she was entrusted with raising and nurturing Jesus the savior of the world. She never turned away from the task even though she knew his life would be a short one. She loved Him and cared for Him just as any mother would do. And like all mothers, as He grew into adulthood she continued to care for Him and worry about his welfare. Even when He died we are given a rare glimpse of what it must have been like for her. In Michelangelo's, Pieta, Mary was sculpted as the mother cradling her child in her lap. Even at that sad point in her life she could not stop being a mother. She just wanted to hold Him one final time.

And as the rest of us move through life trying to be the best mothers that we can our maternal instinct is ever present. Motherly instinct may come to life the first time we go shopping for tiny baby clothes or when we feel the movement of a child within our womb. But the instinct grows stronger with each tiny smile, tooth and birthday. When we are so tired at the end of the day we become revitalized with a gentle hug and simple "I love you." Such tiny things are the fuel for motherly instinct. When our children are grown the instinct lives in our happy memories that we can call up in our minds whenever we want. If we are blessed enough, we will have grandchildren who make us feel young and who do not think we are silly at all if we roll on the floor with them playing games.

As I said before motherly instinct is deep inside us no matter how old we get. It lives in our very heart and soul even though we may seem so sick that we are incapable of knowing what is going on around us at the time. I saw my own mother who seemed to be in a state of deep sleep caused by dementia begin to stir as she heard her great-grandchildren talk. Previously, I could not get her to awaken to my touch or voice. Suddenly she opened her eyes, looked around the room, and appeared to count each child to make sure they were were all present. She then smiled blissfully as the youngest one gently touched her hand and then she went back to sleep. There she was still acting as a mother, looking at her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren making sure that each one of them was present and accounted for in her "home." That one episode was the only documentation that I feel was necessary to prove that the power and strength of maternal instinct is able to break the bonds of dementia for a brief moment and for that one last chance to be a mother again.

Teenagers are the Same No Matter What Era

Another day has passed as I drive down the winding mountain road to the hospital. When I think about the fact that my mother who is approaching ninety was once a teen. I also think of the parents of today who are scared witless not knowing what their teens are doing behind their backs. Having a child turned into a teen is a scary proposition. I know first hand because I have experienced the teenage years as a Mom three times. You want to trust your children because they are approaching adulthood, yet there is always this little demon in your head telling you that you have to be worried or else you are a bad parent. Fortunately for their parents, the teens return unscathed from their mostly secret escapades. Truthfully and thankfully, I did not learn about some of my children's teen hair brained activities until they had moved out of the house years later.

And yet, all parents should take comfort in the fact that teens throughout history having been sneaking around behind their parents' backs. Since I have traveled this route so many times I submit to a self imposed auto pilot and I return to thinking about Mom and the one thing that I know that happened when she was a teen.. One day my own sweet Mother and her sister had a great adventure in the Berkeley hills with their father's brand new car. It is so hard to think of someone who has been my elder all my life as teen, but she managed to survive the silly teen exploits that were often cooked up and carried out by my Aunt. My Aunt was two years younger than Mom and the most daring of the two. When their parents were out of town on vacation my Aunt suggested that they take the new family car out for a spin in the hills. I guess it did not really matter that neither one of them had a license or knew how to drive. Well, of course, my Aunt took the wheel and they made it from Oakland to Berkley without smashing the car. It was a MIRACLE!

The day was warm and the scenery was breathtaking. Emboldened with her new found skills, my Aunt decided to drive around Tilden Park. The park area is known for winding roads that can be narrow at times when all of a sudden as they were riding uphill and a truck decided to pass something disastrous happened. At that moment, the car door flew open and the truck ripped the car door off their Daddy's prized possession. In shock, while at the same time not wanting their to father find out any of the details, they assured the truck driver that they would take care of everything. Then my Aunt had to hatch up another plan in a hurry. They both knew a friend of their father's who would not spill the beans about what had happened. My Mother, because she was older placed a phone call to him explaining what had happened. He rushed to meet them in the hills and promised that the car would be as good as new and back in the family garage before their parents returned. He kept his word. The car was repaired and placed carefully in the garage. My Mom and Aunt were relieved that all ended well and that their Father never found out about their fantastic journey in the park. A least they thought so!

Cute Guys In Uniform

My life has continued to be a series of emotional highs and lows. Although she is being offered a thick liquid diet of soups and tea, Mom seems to want to only consume soda. Trying to get soda in a hospital is like asking for a controlled substance. Finally after about twenty minutes of jumping though hoops I was able to secure a soda mixed with gelatin. Yummy! But for Mom it was the most wonderful drink.

When Mom was young she and her sister used to go to San Francisco. Why? When they went to a bar together there was always a great selection of cute servicemen who would buy them drinks. As a matter of fact I think that is why she went to work at Fort Mason in the Presidio. There were guys everywhere. She used to tell me that she went to the P X one day to buy a drink and she saw Ronald Reagan in uniform She continued to be a sucker for a guy in a uniform and because of this she married my Dad. She met him at Fort Mason when he was in the Navy. It must have been kismet that a city girl from Oakland fell for a country boy raised in east Texas. They remained happily married for fifteen years until Dad died unexpectly from a heart attack.

Even now, in her advanced age, she still has an eye for a guy in uniform. Whether it is a paramedic, fireman, or police officer she always tells me that he is so handsome.