On New Year's Eve I went to bed early, after dropping off my mother at the airport. At the check-in desk they told us the gate was not assigned yet, but it would be announced shortly before boarding time. This raised red flags, it would be very difficult for my mother to read the screens but she would probably be able to find her way by asking for help, but I didn't want to risk it. Also the airport's layout required her to take a train after going through security control, a chain of failure points that could go wrong along the way.
So I approached the assistance desk and they assigned us a guy who was to take my mother on a wheelchair. Weeks ago we went to the Royal Palace and my mother was offended when she was offered a wheelchair, so I told her she would have to play helpless so that she would be escorted all the way to her seat in the plane. She assented because even though she played tough, I could tell she was anxious.
The eve and the first day of new year I spent mostly sleeping. I needed it to decompress after this long family visit, refusing invitations from V. to have dinner with her father, though she insisted, and she only insists when it's important for her. But I had no doubt all I wanted to do was sleep, and sleep I did.
As I make a bit of distance about my walk with my mother, it's already settling into a much nicer memory than what I wrote. I'm glad to have spent this time with her, difficult emotions and all, and I wish I could have been more loving and less withdrawn, but the things I was emotionally processing wasn't deliberate, I couldn't put a lid on it and "try to think about something else". After having slept for so long I feel ready to let go, to forgive the things that happened to me, because this will free me to love my mother inconditionally.
My father has expressed wishes of walking with me, and if this ever happens I'm sure I'll face the same difficult emotions, but I still wish for it to happen. I look inside and I feel the contradictory feelings we usually have with our parents much better resolved now, and the memories of our walk seem brighter. I little bit of regret at not being more loving, present, relaxed, but also understanding that I could not will myself out of it.
When I hugged my mother goodbye before the security checkpoint, as she was going to be wheeled away by the assistant, my mother told me "te veo muy bien mijito, lo único es que necesitas tomar más agua" (I see you're doing well son, just drink more water". I smiled and said "I will do mom" 'cause her advice is spot-on.