Most everyone would probably agree that one of me is enough. Lately I'm wishing there was more than one. My father died almost ten years ago and I'm an only child so it's just me and my mother.
When I picked Mom up to take her to lunch today she was really dragging her butt. Unsteady on her feet, she was just about shuffling along. Her voice was weak and she seemed fuzzy headed, all classic signs, for her anyway, of depression. On the way into the restaurant she came close to taking a spill. If I hadn't been right there, she would have gone down.
We had lunch, walked around HomeGoods for a while where she pushed the shopping cart to keep her steady and then stopped at the supermarket where she waited in the car. She was mostly along for the ride and as the afternoon went on she seemed to become more like herself.
I made another quick stop and when I got back into the car she said, "I've enjoyed today as much as if we'd spent a week together." I thought she had brightened up a little while we were out and here was the proof.
All she needed was a little of my company. Days like today make me wish there was more of me.