I have hit the pause button on my life for one of the loves of my life; my mom. Its my night to stay with her, we take turns, and I can hear her voice calling for help. Creeping through the dark to answer her calls in the middle of the night, I step on something that would appear to be a Lego shaped land mind and make the rest of the trip hopping on one foot. Why not just turn on the light? Well, that would make sense and none of this makes sense. None of this is fair.
I have taken this diagnosis with a pen and paper attitude. There is so much to be done. So many questions. Stay busy. Just the facts. No one sleeps much. We- me, my siblings, their spouses, their kids, my kids- have researched, called, shown up, pleaded, prayed, begged, pleaded with God and demanded a better diagnosis, a sunnier prognosis, a better pill and an easier road. But it is what it is.
I have thrown myself into my art and some projects I have been preparing for. Distractions are quite helpful during denial. I made 200 or so glittering flat back marble cabochons this week in an effort to not fall apart while I sit in my mama’s living room and listen to her dream dreams that would send me to therapy.
I stick close to K-love and my Sister in law( who farts rainbows and glitter and finds the sugar in life )trying to absorb her attitude. I rely on my brother trying to absorb his resolve and my sister trying to absorb her logic and tenderness. I kiss my grand kids and stay close to my own babies, my grown ones and my littles…. And my Cowboy who reminds me daily of how much Jesus loves me.
I have been watching it progress and happen for some time. I think I knew a long time ago but accepting that would mean saying goodbye to her, and it was not an option. So I just pretended she was just 82.
Today, I tried one more time to pretend it wasn’t real. It was time to be angry. It was time to cry. It was time to accept that this is the longest goodbye ever. So on Mother’s Day 2015, I threw the biggest crying, blaming, throw yourself on your bed, ugly crying, bird throwing, cussing, stomping, Southern New Mexico girl fit you ever saw on behalf of my Mom to try to get God to change his mind. Happy Mothers day.
There are just a few things that you can’t keep denying. Sometimes a duck is a duck and not a peacock that just looks like a duck for now.
The giant Lego Land Mine was her teeth that she had thrown at me. The last thing you ever want to do is trip over your mothers teeth.
She calls me names that people have been wanting to call me for years and she is the only one brave enough to do it to my face, except my sister. I’m scared of her.
Shes right, my cooking does suck.
When your 83, you don’t have to wear pants if you don’t want to. No matter how it traumatized your 40-year-old son.
I love that God has used this ” horrific thing” to bring our family together. She would think this was a beautiful thing if she was not so upset about my cooking and what my sister had done to her hair.
So Its time now. To accept that this is not a horrible thing that God did to her, to us. It’s the work He asked us to do for her, for Him. Its her time to transition from this earth into His kingdom. It’s his time to get her alone with Him and its our job to sustain her while he does and how long he takes to do it is His business. He has provided all of us with everything we need to do this work and the only thing left is the attitude we do it with and that is up to me.
As that sentence leaves my fingertips, I am smiling through tears because they were there waiting for me to get the this point. The point where I would accept Gods Blessings for me, for my brother and sister and mostly for her in this; whether they come from next door, the next town, Alabama or North Carolina.