I've been replaced by a dog.
Mom talked last year about getting a dog. I was vehemently against this. I was concerned it would be too much for her...that she would trip over the dog...that it would be overwhelming and taxing and just the wrong thing to do. Turns out I was wrong.
The dog has been a saving grace. A constant companion who not only brings Mom relief and love and comfort after a difficult visit with Dad or a lonely day at home...but also a welcome diversion and constant distraction for Mom.
It is wonderful and awful. I feel guilty that I'm glad she is now so busy and distracted so that I do not receive twice daily phone calls. Yet, with that, comes the realization that there is someone in her life who demands more attention and is, apparently, quite wonderful and talented and special.
While I'm happy she is busy and occupied, I cringe every time I hear her speak to the dog like a baby. That sugary talk, that doting, all-consuming attention should be reserved for me or her grandchildren. She tells the dog that I'm her sister. I'm so not.
After setting aside the childish envy, I see an old woman who is trying her best to cope...to forget, if only for a few minutes, how stressful her husband's health is.
She is an amazing woman who is quite suddenly alone - no children or husband to care for - no one on whom she can dote. So what's the obvious solution? Well, clearly, it's a 3#-nothing little ball of fur named Missy who thinks my Mom hung the moon.
What I learned today: Let it go.
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