My son Alex calls me Lucy. He changed from Mom to Lucy when he was about three. It's interesting to me how people react to this. Some say: “Does it bother you? Isn't it disrespectful?” Honestly? No, not at all.
In my way of thinking there was a time I was not even Lucy let alone Mom. Yet since Alex has come along a mother I am. And still a daughter.
I am visiting my Mom and she no longer knows my name. My Mom has alzheimer's, many may say “she has no idea who you are”. My Mom may not know my name or that I am her daughter, yet who she is and who I am hold an energy that is totally unique. We hold our love story. When I talk to her, feed her or hold her there is a response I see in her eyes or sigh that holds a deeper knowledge maybe unknown to the body she is in.
She recognizes true love. A life force is there. Just consider the way a baby may not know a word or have control of its limbs but recognizes who it wants to be held by.
We are still very limited in knowing what goes on at a deeper level before or after words.
These days when I meditate I feel my Mom. I feel her hand on my shoulder. Today she was small, about seven years old with her little hands in mine. She is more powerful than the ever changing body she is somewhat residing in and she knows that. She always knew that.
Am I saying my heart is not mourning? Oh, it is, I miss my Mom's vitality just as I miss my face at twenty. I miss her laughing at me in a way that let me feel soft and funny. I miss her seriously bad singing and I miss her fast walk. Yet somehow all that has existed still does.
For me, when I say the word “Mom” my whole being reacts. I suppose for Alex, it happens with “Lucy”.
I can just hear my Mom now saying, “Yes, Lucy. Oh yes!” I know the exact tone she would use.