resuscitated

My mom is done. She is ready. She is getting older, although she is still relatively young, and she is ready to die. She told me that a couple of weekends ago. I don't know if it was supposed to be a pseudo-lesson on living life to the fullest in the present but the conversation didn't quite reach that conclusion.
Instead, all it made me feel was just really sad. And all it made me think was that my mom is not enjoying her life.

It could be that she does not have a husband or any other significant other with whom she can share pleasantries with and enjoy her days with. It could be that her daughters don't show her enough love and respect and she feels that her parenting has gone to waste. Or it could be both.

I would have hoped that we, as her daughters, were kind enough, and good enough that it would have been enough to spend her days with us. But instead, I think we give her more grief and hurt than warmth and love.

We're all so selfish and still so immature, despite her 29, 26, and 23 years of mothering us. When I look at us, I see girls who are still so lost in so many ways, and who have a long way to go before we can really call ourselves grown, and mature women.

I look at myself, and I cannot say that I am even the tiniest bit close to the woman that I want to be and that I aspire to be. I can only call myself "a girl" still, with all of the insecurities, immaturities and flaws that go along with that title.
I want to be someone that my mom can look towards for reassurance-- that she has someone she can depend on, someone who will be there for her, and that I will be okay in the end.

She may feel all this already, and I may be reading into things... but even still, I know I can do better and it worries me that I am still struggling.