I Suck

On the weekends my mom and I used to stay up and watch TV together.  Lots of Diagnosis Murder.  Little Becca would stay up, too.  We'd fall asleep in our clothes and at some point I'd wake up, change, and mosey on to bed.  My mom would wake up, take a shower, and then mosey.  She didn't like to go to bed without showering first if she could help it.  Sometimes this would be at 2 am.  She'd awake the next morning as if she'd gotten a full night's rest.  There isn't a time I can remember my mom not ever being superwoman, even when I was upset with her for her rules or not understanding me.  And while we talked about so many things once I became a mother there was so much we didn't have to say.  We just could exist in a room together and understand.  Now I don't know how to exist in a room with my mom.  God I hate ALS.  And I hate that I suck at knowing how to exist with her now.