|Mom struggling with her card. |
I needed to open the envelope for her.
We went outside to enjoy the sun shine - spending time in the center's gazebo is one of the things she likes to do. But she promptly fell asleep. Sleep seems to be her constant companion. I have come to accept this. It is enough that we spend time together.
Time to sit and think fills my visits. My thoughts were interrupted by another family nearby. They were sitting together with a grandmother in a wheel chair, and I could overhear them encouraging her. She needed to work hard in PT and to eat all her meals and to not spend all her time in bed. If she wanted to go home she needed to do these things ... otherwise she could not go home.
Such sadness I felt. How many countless times I had that very same conversation with mom over our years together. I tried to block out their voices. Better to stay focused on the knitting I brought ... no sense in borrowing sadness when I had plenty of my own.
|Shadows of the gazebo.|
So on this Mother's Day I honor the woman my mother is! She didn't have the easiest life but she raised her two daughters to be productive and caring members of society. She held together her small dysfunctional family when others might have given up. She lived a long life with many satisfying and loved filled moments. She might not remember any of this, but I do.
She does not suffer now. She lives a calm life not disturbed by the loss of possessions and experiences. For her Mother's Day is just like any other day. It is as if her losses have been exhausted now - there is nothing more left for her to lose.
The Mother's Day card sat unopened on her lap. She fell asleep while looking at the cover of the card. I guess the warmth of the sun put her to sleep ... or maybe another bright spot is shrinking into shadow.
You are loved on this Mother's Day, mom.