Mom & Me Journals Histories: 1999 - 2001

    This evening I am cleaning my mother's shit out of the carpet, spot by spot, in long a trail from one bathroom to another. She had her first old age fecal accident today and it scared her, causing her to trot from one bathroom to the other trying to control it. There go holiday preparations for another day. I always wondered when this would happen. I'm not surprised that I'm undaunted by it but I am completely surprised by, and grateful for my mother's aplomb. When I was cleaning her up, top to bottom, so to speak, I told her that I wanted her to know that doing this doesn't bother me, that I am glad I'm here for this, in fact, because I am "in a position" (and I intended the pun as I talked to her) to be able to clean her and the shit up better than she could. I also tried very hard to convey to her that I have a very philosophical attitude toward shitting accidents. I consider the human body a machine that occasionally needs such maintenance so I don't want her to be "afraid" of having them or so worried about them that when one occurred she didn't tell me about it until an even greater mess was made.
    I guess I needn't have worried. Her response was, "I know. I cleaned up after four little machines for several years."
    The gods bless my mother.