“My bridge fell out,” she said.
”Are you going to the dentist?” I said urgently.
“No,” she sighed. “I just super glued it back into my mouth.” My laughter boomeranged through the phone … back into my sensitive ear.
Years ago, on the golf course, Mom was hit in the mouth with an errant golf ball. It knocked out her front teeth. Because she was a beautiful woman, this devastated her self-image. It meant a year of plastic surgery.
Why now was she so non-chalant? My Mom of yesterday would have slammed down on the gas pedal for the dentist office. But no…not now…because she realized she had but days to live.
We both giggled like schoolgirls at her newly discovered dental skills. I paused, for a ridiculous moment, to worry about how the glue might affect her health. The ironic thought made me smile.
As the days jogged by, her health softened - like the last grains of sand sifting softly through an hourglass. We mused about surrender. What a relief to finally realize her life, her struggle was over. Throw the make-up, the clothes, the mother-image, the judgements, self-lectures and condemnations….throw them all on a big bonfire Mom! You don’t have to be anything to anybody anymore! I was so excited your time had come.
Her last lucid day was her grandest. There she sat, two superglue treatments later. She gave up. The bridge wouldn’t stay so she threw it away. One side of her face caved-in…gifting her with a final and crooked, wicked little smile. A smile she never had in life. So genuine, so relaxed. Stripped of vanity, dignity, and quite nearly…her life. God! That smile is a treasure in my head. It was her most elegant moment.
Mother’s day last weekend. How I missed having a Mom.
