"Is That Why You're Getting Rid of Me?"

I was planning only a short visit today because I had put so many hours into Mom and the P.E.O. meeting yesterday.

I went over about 4 pm, hoping to walk her to dinner and leave.

"Hi, Mom, how are you?"

"Oh Anne, thank goodness you came. Now can we go to your house?"

"Well, if you want to. We were there yesterday for the P.E.O. meeting, remember?"

"Yes, that was very nice. Can we go now?"

So I took her to my house.

She didn't say "I want to go back" shortly after arriving, as she usually does.

Instead she sat there, eating a bite or two of what I placed in front of her.

I brought the dog in. I put the dog out.

I turned on the tv. I turned it off.

Finally I said, "It's time to go now. I need to work on the taxes. "

"Is that why you're getting rid of me?" she asked.

Yes, I thought, I need do something besides take care of you and the cat, which requires a half hour morning and evening of forced feeding, meds, and subcutaneous hydration.

I said, "I finished your taxes and sent them to the tax lady, but now I need to do mine."

But her words hit me like a hurricane: You don't love me. I am a chore. You just want to get rid of me.

Never mind that I just spent eight hours yesterday on you and the P.E.O. meeting.

Today you want to stay at my house all evening and not go back.

It's never enough.

When I got back from taking her to her residence, I cried.