Mom's Prediction

My mother announced a week ago, at the dinner table that this will be the year that she will die. She announced it very casually, as though she were announcing her upcoming vacation. I smiled and thought "just another one of her predictions".

My mother’s predictions of her own death have been going on for about twenty years. But this one is a little different. A palm reader several years ago told her that she will die in her 80th year of life. I had heard her mention it many times, but of course never believed that it would actually happen. But she really is expecting it.

She had a major heart attack when she was in her fifties and a couple of minor ones in the years that followed. She has had a lot of health problems throughout the years, so it is not entirely irrational that she would be obsessed with dying. But all her illnesses have been managed and it has been about eight years since she has had any problems with her heart. She is on so many medications for her circulation, such as blood pressure, blood thinning, and cholesterol medication, that it is practically impossible for her to have a heart attack.

It all started after my dad died. All of a sudden, she felt old. When she was in her sixties, before she moved to Colorado, she would come and stay with me for a few months every year. When it was time for her to go back to the East Coast where she used to live, she would say goodbye to friends by saying, “See you next year if I’m alive.” With a worried look, our friends would ask, “Is she OK? Is she terminally ill?” Because of her constant preoccupation with death, I always worried that she might die any day. I would sometimes go and check on her in the middle of the night to make sure she was breathing. So, for the last twenty years she has lived as though death is just around the corner. Her commonly used phrase for all these years has been, “I’ll only be alive for 2 or 3 more years.” She has used this phrase to make me feel guilty about not doing exactly what she wants and not getting her way. With me, guilt is a very strong motivation factor. If I wasn’t in a position to do something she wanted, I would do anything to figure out how to get it done, so that if she suddenly died I would not feel bad. It took me about fifteen years to realize that she has been using the same phrase throughout all these years to manipulate me and I always fall for it. When I would say “Mom you need to get a new coat,” she would say, “I’ll only be alive for 2 or 3 more years. My old coat will do.” When I would say “Mom you need a new couch, this one is falling apart,” she would say, “I’ll only be alive for 2 or 3 more years, this one will last until then.” She has been complaining about her dentures for the last five years. She has been saying that they are too loose and don’t fit anymore. When I say, “Let’s get new dentures,” she always says, “Dentures are too expensive, insurance doesn’t cover them and, I’ll only be alive for 2 or 3 more years, so why waste money.” After all these years, I still haven’t convinced her to buy a new couch, lamp, coffee table or dentures. She won’t let me buy them for her either. She simply says, “Don’t waste your money on me. I’ll only be alive for 2 or 3 more years.”

About three and a half years ago, one day when I was at her apartment, we had an argument about something. In the midst of the argument in order to make me feel bad, as usual, she said, “I’ll only be alive for 2 or 3 more years and then you won’t have to deal with me at all.” All of the sudden, I heard myself say, “Mom, you have been saying that for the last seventeen or eighteen years, and it hasn’t happened yet.” As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I knew I was in trouble. What I really wanted to say was, “Please stop saying that in order to manipulate me.” When my mom heard what I had just said, she got upset and said, “Oh, you want me to die, don’t you? You are waiting for me to die. Aren’t you?” I said, “No mom, I don’t want you to die. I just don’t want you to say that anymore. It makes me feel bad to hear it. I worry about you and feel bad when you talk about dying. That is what I meant to say.” For the next thirty minutes, I kept apologizing and explaining that she had misunderstood me and that I don’t want her to die. I love her and it’s just that I worry about her. But the damage was done. She would not believe me. I saw my sister, Sudi, later that day. When I told her what had happened, she burst into laughter and said, “Now, you have to stand in the corner for the next 30 days. It’s going to take her that long to forgive you”. And of course, she was right. My mom was mad at me for a long time after that and told everyone in the family what I had said.

I remember about six years ago, one Saturday morning, we were having breakfast. My sister Zhaleh had just moved to Australia. She was going to live there for about a year or two. As we were having our tea, my mom with a stressed look on her face said, “Oh, too bad Zhaleh won’t be here for my funeral.” I chuckled and said, “Why? Are you planning to die soon?” She said, “She is going to be gone for a year or two. For sure, I’ll be dead by the time she gets back.” Laughingly, I said, “Don’t worry mom. I’ll take care of everything.”

She has also written her will a number of times and has explained to me who should get what. She changes her mind so many times that she no longer updates her will. She just tells me and wants me to remember. The Persian rug in her apartment, for the longest time, was supposed to go to Zhaleh upon her death. Then about five years ago, she went to Iran and brought a Persian rug for Zhaleh, at which point the Persian rug was supposed to be given to Sudi when she died. Then tonight, when I was visiting her at her apartment, my mom again said, “I will die soon. The year 2010 is the year of my death.” As she was saying this she almost tripped and fell. I held her arm to help her maintain her balance and jokingly said, “It’s not 2010 yet, we still have a couple of months to go, so be careful.” She smiled. As she sat on the couch she said, “I want you to have the Persian rug.” I said, “But you had already said that Sudi could have it.” She said, “No, I’m giving Sudi my money. She needs that more.”

Throughout the years, she has also planned her funeral and memorial service in great detail. She has given me a list of people to invite. She wants to have a dinner, as that is the Persian custom, and if cooking for fifty people is too difficult for me, I should hire Holly, our friend, who is also a caterer. She has picked the menu too. She has also selected all of the readings for the memorial service. The last time we went to a memorial service was about six years ago. At the end of the service, she went to the lady who had just lost her father and said, “I really liked the last prayer that was read, could you please give a copy of it to Soheila for my memorial service.” The grieving lady burst into laughter.

So tonight again, my mom talked about dying. I kept telling her as I always do that she will be around for a long time and that she is not going to die soon. I told her that she is on all the proper medication and that she has no reason to think that she is going to die. But for the first time ever, I did not believe myself. She looks weak. She holds on to me when we walk. She trips and falls often. There is a frailty in her that I have not seen before. I looked at her when we were sitting on the couch, examined the wrinkles on her face. Looked at her old hands. Looked at her fragile body. And, all I could think was how much I wanted to hug her. For a second, I felt that her departure was near. Tears rolled down my face. I held her tight in my arms. I kissed her face and told her that I loved her. I will miss her so much when she is gone.




PS I just read half of what I have written here to my mom. She wanted to know what I was writing about. She stopped me in the middle and said, “What is this nonsense you are writing? People will make fun of me.”