Comfort

Comfort is one of that word that would describe what my mom was to me growing up. She was there with me when I had my tonsils removed, staying overnight in the hospital. When my parent's divorced I would sleep on the floor in her room and it made me feel a little better. Even when I was older, I would find myself sleeping on her floor if I was having a hard time. A hug from her or encouraging words would always help me feel better when dealing with a broken heart. I miss that about her. Sometimes, I still need the comfort she would bring. I don't think you are ever too old for the comfort of your mother.

I hope that maybe now, I bring her comfort in her current state. I always hope that when I am there with her, she is a little more relaxed. Maybe my presence brings the same feelings of safety, that she brought me. I wish that when I sat with her, I would feel her comfort again. I wish when I sat with her, that I would feel that everything is okay. But life is so different now with her being sick.

Aching

I have become very good at hiding the pain with a smile. Most of the time, it is a genuine smile....but there are those times when it is hiding the pain, the tears and the aching in my heart for my mom. There doesn't have to be a specific reason, I could have had a great day with her or just going on with my daily life. It can hit at anytime and I ache. I can remember her and the way she was. I think to myself how even though she is treated with the greatest of dignity at the nursing home, how embarrassed she would be that they help her with everything. That makes me ache. It makes me ache for the person she was. I ache for the fact that she doesn't do much on her own anymore. I ache when she is trying to say a word and it doesn't come out right.

I ache when those memories hit me of the way life was before. I can sometimes see it so clearly and yet it seems like a lifetime ago. I ache sometimes at night as I worry is she lonely. I ache for the fact that I will never see her the way she was on this side of heaven. When I think of the time that she will leave this world to be healed in Heaven my heart just aches. What will I do when she is gone?

Mother's Day 2011

A Mother's Love

Helen Steiner Rice

A mother's love is something that no one can explain

It is made of deep devotion and of sacrifice and pain.

It is endless and unselfish and enduring, come what may,

For nothing can destroy it or take that love away.

It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking,

And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking.

It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns,

And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems.

It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation,

And it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation

A many splendored miracle man cannot understand

And another wondrous evidence of God's tender, guiding hand.

I miss you, mom. I ache inside. I ache for the person you were and for who you are now. I ache because you loved to walk and now, you don't want to. I ache when I hear you try to say words and they don't come out right. I ache because you have to be helped with everything and I know that must get tiring. I ache because I can't take care of you by myself in my home. I try to be strong, but inside....I ache. I cry and I miss you so much.

Another year, Another Birthday

It probably seems weird that I would talk about my birthday on a blog about my mom. The truth is that birthdays and holidays are so hard without her. Oh, I know she isn't dead..but she is not the same mom I knew. I miss her so much, especially on my birthday. My mom would always buy the most beautiful birthday cards and if it wasn't enough the words on the card, she would then fill the card in with her own words. I wish there was a way I could share them on here. Her words were always so encouraging and uplifting. I would always hear how proud she was of me and how much she loved me. I am so glad that I have kept all her cards. I take them out and read them. It is so very painful and yet, I eat up her words all over again.

I will see my mom on my birthday. I always like to see her. Yes, it is hard because she doesn't really know I am her daughter and she definitely doesn't know it is my birthday. But when I am with her, I feel a little more whole. I selfishly pray that she stay stable for a while. She is a big part of who I am today. She was a great mom. She taught me so much. I miss talking to her about life. I miss taking walks with her. I am afraid of the day that she passes. Oh, I know she will be healed and with her family. But I am afraid she will take a big part of me with her.

I love you, mom and I ache so many times for you. I wish for just a few moments....we could talk again. I wish I had taken more pictures with you when I was growing up. I keep looking in boxes of pictures thinking there will be new pictures of us, that I didn't see before. I wish I could tell you thank you. Thank you for being a great mom. Thank you for raising me up to know and live for God. Thank you for your example of faith. I see more of you in me, as I get older. It is a good thing. I am proud to be like you.

Little Blessings

This picture was taken on Sunday morning at the church service at the nursing home. I treasure this photo. I have learned to treasure many things these days. I have learned to call them little blessings. When this disease takes over your loved one, you can sometimes overlook the small things. The things that for just a moment say, life is okay.

My favorite little blessings:

Her giggle. She can start to giggle at the most random time. But to me, that means she is happy and content. It is a beautiful sound.

At times, I think she gets restless....so, she starts to scoot in her wheelchair. She just takes off and I follow. The whole times saying, "Go, Mom, Go." To me, it means she still is using her legs and her brain.

Those at the nursing home who go above and beyond their job. Those that I now call friend.

The times at church when we are singing a hymn, I turn to her and sing it to her. She gets a big smile on her face. Or when she taps her foot along to the beat of music being played on a bagpipe.

When we sang Happy Birthday to a resident and my mom sang the last verse. The words weren't exactly right, but she sang.

Most people would overlook these little moments. But to me, they are little blessings. They are little reminders that my mom is still in there somewhere. Yes, the disease is changing her and continues to take her from me. But God continues to be faithful to the both of us and continues to give me these little blessings.

Run

My sweet mom, this disease continues to take you away from me. Even looking back at pictures of last year and seeing the difference now. She is more tired these days. I don't know if that is from not sleeping well at night or her body is just tired. The conversations are not what they used to be. Her words are more jumbled and don't always make sense. I still think she recognizes me a little. I love when she gets the giggles.

Sometimes I wish I could run and keep running until all of this goes away. I want her back. I want my mom back. I want to be able to talk with her and take walks like we used to. I want to be able to share life again. I hate this disease. I hate when it has done to my mom. It has changed both of our worlds forever.

I try to be strong and not let it bother me. I try to see God's purpose for this. I try to remind myself that He is in control and knows what He is doing. But sometimes, I just want to run.

Same Person?

I came across this picture as I was cleaning my office. It made me stop and think for a while. It made me think how can the person in this picture, be the same person I see now? How can my mom, who loved to do crafts, paint, and write family letters, be the same person who can no longer do those things?

She would read and pray for an hour each day and can no longer read anymore. She would love to take walks and now, she doesn't remember how. How can they be the same person?!

This picture seems like a lifetime ago. It is hard to believe we are 7 years into this disease. I force myself at times to look at the old pictures and remember what she used to be like. It is so hard at times. I find those memories slowly fading and being taken over by who she is now. I also find myself seeing her in me lately. There are many times I can say to myself, "that is what my mom would say or do." It is not a bad thing. My mom was a wonderful, godly woman. I hope that I am like her. I hope that when loved ones and friends of my mom look at me, maybe they see her in me. She has always been a big part of my life. I think that is why I selfishly want to keep her around. I am afraid of the day when she is gone.