Mother earth

Before we headed out for a walk I found my mom in an unoccupied room, just getting onto the bed. I greeted her then offered my hand and pulled her back up to sitting. Out in the hallway, a caregiver intercepted and tried to convince her to go to the bathroom. She wasn't having any of it. She set off at a brisk pace and I joked, "Hey, I can't keep up with you."
She glanced over her shoulder and said, "That's because I don't like you."
"You don't?" I said. "I thought you loved me."
"I do love you," she said, "but only when you're nice and calm and don't make me do things."
"Oh," I said. "I see. It's conditional. That makes sense."
That last bit was obviously more for myself. A reckoning and a reminder.