3 Blind Mice - RIP

I visited with my mom last Friday.  She doesn't remember that I'm coming, nor does she remember that I've been there.  She always says to 'Call me when you get home so I know you are ok" and then she never answers the phone.  So I could die on I-15 and it wouldn't upset her much. Kidding.  I struggled with going that day.  My week had been awful, and horrible, and ugly.  I wanted to crawl under the covers and sleep for 3 days straight - wait - 4 days, no 5 days straight.  Maybe I would get up and drink a Pepsi now and then, and eat a cookie.  But I promised myself and my mom (not that she remembers) that I would make sure I made our visits each time.  We sometimes have an agenda, most the time we don't - we act on the newest and greatest emergency at the moment.  I walked in that day and stripped her down, the bedding down, the clothes in the closet down, and went to start the wash.  (don't worry - I made sure she wasn't naked for long - and that she had a wonderful bath without worrying about things)  As I went downstairs I could smell this awful smell and I thought, "Ok - so here's what your emergency is this time...."  I couldn't find the source right away and so I lifted the lid of the washer to put the clothes inside.  There splattered around the washer were bits and pieces of  little mice - fur everywhere - an leg here - a tail over there - and oh my the stench of death was in abundance.  My mom is the cleanest person on earth - and she would have died if she knew that even one mouse was in the house, so I didn't tell her.  I just scraped out the little friends, gave them a funeral and sang the 3 blind mice song in their honor... ok there could have been 3 in there.... and disinfected the entire washing machine.  All is well people - and I got a great laugh out of it.  When I asked mom about what was in her washing machine.... she said, "I noticed that my black socks were in there and I washed them...."  I said, "Yep, you certainly did - the warm fuzzy ones."  I finished cleaning the house, and we made sure her home was shining clean, laundry done, beds made, calls returned to friends, and memories remembered.  (Might I add.... no more mice...) I drove home that night late - tired, still laughing, but at peace.  It happens every time.  The moments I have left with her that she remembers things are priceless.  The memories she's forgotten kill me.  I KNOW that one day - my kids will find Mickey Mouse in the laundry, that they'll make sure I change my underwear, and that they'll remind me that one day I was something special.  I hope they still love me - like I love my mom.  I hope they have patience with me - and remember that once I was young and vital in some way.  When you've lived for over 80 years, I think you're allowed to let a few things slip.  I love her with all my heart.  I hope to be just like her in many ways - except for her laundry activities from last week.  The next day, I did get under the covers.  Gomer and I turned off the phones, and computers, and TVs, we shunned our Mission responsiblities and slept the day away - totally 100% exhausted, except for when we had a cold Pepsi.  Don't miss a moment of the events life brings you by surprise.  They'll prove to be the best of the best.  Off to make dinner..... Mouse-ka-Bobs... with Gomer, and perhaps, some laundry.