Watching Mom's Christmas

The camera angle is one way and there's no zoom capacity, hence, I can see her at the end of the table in her usual spot (hum, it's the same seating position she always had when I was growing up - the head of the table!), but I can't glean very much detail. The people are running around getting food ready for the Christmas party, there are kids playing by the huge tree in the living area, and some of the staff are there with their families. There's no sound, but I imagine they have music playing and it's most likely pretty noisy. She just sits there and doesn't seem to move over the next two hours. I can't tell if she's happy or not. I can't tell what she's saying to the woman sitting next to her or what she's eating. I count about ten residents around the tables. When she's all done eating I watch as she leaves the table, turns her back, and returns to her room down the hall.

My heart is torn. Compared to last year when she sat at her own table with her head literally laying on her chest because she was too weak to lift it following two weeks in the hospital after a fall that nearly took her life, she's far better off. Compared to two years ago when she was alone on Christmas because she wouldn't let Mark come for dinner because she had shingles on her face, she's far better off.

Tomorrow morning, Christmas Eve day, I'll watch as one of the nurses helps her and the other residents open their Christmas presents. I sent her a lap desk and books with crossword puzzles to try to keep her brain engaged. Somehow, opening Christmas presents should always happen with family. She's safer and healthier, and better off where she lives now, but I expect that watching her open my presents with a stranger will be tough. It's been a long, hard year with decisions and changes made in her best interest. It ends with her in a better space with trained professionals providing her daily care.

The camera angle is one way and there's no zoom capacity. I think this might be best. If I could see close ups of her face, my heart would be torn more than it already has been this year.