Since I've always been quick with an opinion an old friend once lost and again found suggested that perhaps I should share with more people my commentary. Never being one to pass on a challenge I thought I'd give it a whirl.
The days this week seem like my mood. One minute it’s gloomy and the next it’s bright and shiny. I’m working on my moods and my mental health though. I’ve known for years that the keeper of our happiness is within our own selves. With that being said I got to thinking that I don’t understand why we wait till someone is gone to immortalize them with our words about how great they are. Some people I know would never in a million years hear those words but me I love my parents both of them, but I’ve always sort of thought of my mother as a saint. She’s the most caring soul I’ve ever known. I’m forty-seven years old and I’ve only seen her angry that I can recall twice in my life. She loves everyone (with the exception of one) unconditionally. Even that one that I put in quotes my mother would do anything for. That is just the way she is. She doesn’t care that my friends are black or white, straight or gay, friends or lovers. All she knows is that they are God’s children and she’s supposed to and does love them. Now does that mean she agrees with their or my life choices? Probably not, but she won’t call you out on the carpet. It’s just not her style. She will lovingly give you advice and she might tell you she’ll pray for you and hopes you will make peace with God, but she won’t judge you herself. My mother is one that would literally give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. I’ve heard many people say that and knowing the person wouldn’t literally do it, but my mother would. Most of my friends have met my mother so I’m sure you know what a sweet and wonderful woman she is without my having to tell you. She does get hurt feelings though and for me that is hard to watch knowing that even those that hurt her she still loves, still cherishes and still wants around her as often as possible. It’s hard watching my sweet and wonderful mother go through what she is now. It’s hard to understand. She’s never cussed, never drank or smoke and has loved so openly and much. My mother has Parkinson’s. It’s an awful disease that is trapping her mind inside her body slowly. I’ve read up on it. I know what to expect as the months and years go by, but that doesn’t make it easier. In the last year the disease has hit her hard. She’s now using a walker or being led around to walk and that is when she can. She gets stuck. She knows she wants her feet to move but her mind no longer talks to her body the way it should. Sometimes you have to move them for her. She is getting hunched in her back and her vocal chords are starting to go too. She’s down to 122 pounds. Now for those that don’t know what that means only three years ago she was around 165 and a year ago she was still around 145. She can’t eat the way she should. She has a hard time swallowing and chewing. She’s basically just wasting away a little at a time. She has stomach issues as well. She’s not like she was. You sit in a room with her and she’ll talk to you for a while but often she gets that far off distant look in her eyes and fades out of the conversation. The Christmas shopping trip we did every year as a tradition no longer exists for she’s not able. She doesn’t leave the house often and only in short periods when she does. She will never likely be back to her home town of Pippa Passes, Kentucky. There are people she will never see again. Her family that lives close rarely comes to see her with the exception of my aunt Jib and her children. She longs to hear from them and see them but they don’t come see her and they probably don’t realize a thirty or forty minute trip in a car is hard for my mother these days. She goes to church rarely. It’s hard for her to talk for more than a few minutes on the phone. My Grandmother Lula’s favorite song was “Give Me the Roses While I live.” I think we have it wrong in life. We tend to take for granted the people in our lives when we should relish every moment. I miss the mother I had. I love her I still am happy to have her but it’s not the same woman at this time. She’s not going to be with us much longer would be my guess so if you want to see her you might want to put her on your busy calendars and get there. My mother was a stay at home mom when I was growing up. She was always there for us. We had home cooked meals. She read to us and played with us. She kept the house clean and our clothes sewn and washed. She kissed our boo boo’s and she held us close when we needed it. She made us soup when we were sick and she wiped our nose when it ran and even cried when she had to send me off to kindergarten. My mother was happy when school breaks came because she got to spend time with us. Do you know how disgusted I get these days when I hear mothers cheer their children growing up and moving out? My mother had two children. My brother is older than I. She adopted through love a multitude of children over the years though. She is beautiful inside and out and she always will be. So I’m saddened at the thought of losing her but it’s the cycle of life unfortunately. It’s what is meant to be. I will mourn and I will cry when she’s gone but there has never been a better person or a more Christian person that I have known in my life so I am sure when it is her time to go God will hold her close to him and comfort her. I love my mother. When I have felt lost she’s always been there. My mother… my saving grace.