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I grab my phone to see the time —4:07 a.m.
I yank the covers off of me and head to see what’s going on.
When I see my mom shuffling around the room, I rush up to her.
“Everything okay?” I place my hands on her shoulders.
She gives me an empty stare, then goes back to walking around the room like she’s looking for something.
“I have to get to work, but I can’t find my keys,” she says, her voice getting more and more agitated.
I blink a few times, wondering if I’m in a wild dream.
My mom is walking around in her robe at four in the morning, thinking she’s leaving for work.
“Mom, it’s not quite time to wake up yet.”
She stops and looks at me like I’m crazy and points to her watch. “This thing says I need to go to work.”
“But, Mom, the market doesn’t open for a few more hours. You’ve never gone in at this time.”
She huffs and tries to blow me off. “What do you know?”
I place my arm around her, worried as hell about what’s going on, but just knowing that I need to get her back in bed.
“Come on. It’s still the middle of the night. See.” I point to the window to show it’s still dark outside. “Let’s get you back in bed.”
I watch as her eyes narrow like she’s taking in what I’m saying, but it’s not computing.
I walk her back to her room, and thankfully, she allows me to. Once we’re in her room, I tuck her back in bed and turn off the light.
When I go back to my room, all I can think about is the way she looked, shuffling around the room. No part of that moment was my mother.
The way she looked at me. The way she spoke to me. It was like she wasn’t even there.
I read about sundowning, where they don’t understand time and their days and nights get switched, but that was almost scary. She really didn’t understand it was basically still very early and she should be asleep.
I roll over onto my side, hoping to get some sleep of my own, but knowing it’s a hopeless cause at this point.
* * *
When it’s really time to wake up, I exit my room and head to her room first to see her sitting on her bed, staring at something.
“What you got there?” I ask as I sit down next to her.
Today, she feels like my mom again with the way she’s calm and not as confused. Last night freaked me out, especially since it was like she wasn’t even there.
“This is me.” She shows me her high school graduation picture.
I hold it to see it closer. My mom really was beautiful.
“Will you take a picture of it and frame it for me, so I don’t lose it?”
I hand it back to her. “But, Mom, it’s already a picture.”
She huffs and sets it on her nightstand. “Fine. I’ll get someone else to take it.”
She stands and exits her room to head to the kitchen. I follow and help her make breakfast, which she eats very little of.
