Trying to find my way

My other half said the whole idea is to be honest, to peel away the layer of emotions and try to find the heart of the matter.  My cousin, who went through the loss of her mother not too long ago said to me to trust God that he’s got a plan and somehow, someday it will make sense.  Right now, it just sucks all around.  

I spent the whole weekend with my mom.  Somehow, when we are together, it doesn’t matter this thing that is trying to steal her life.  It’s us, me and her.  Like it was in the beginning.  When I was sick, I always said that she had this amazing ability to make me feel better just by being there.  I remember one time when I was sick with the flu, respiratory, sinus, and throat infection.  Doctor said to take my medication and stay under the covers until I sweated the fever out.  At some point my mother came into my room and used a cold compress to cool me down.  I remember that the touch of her hand made me feel better.  

I’ve made a lot of questionable choices regarding my relationship with her.  I feel regret for having squandered the time I had with her.  Would I have tried for a better relationship if I had known this disease would lie before us?  I’ve wrestled with this ever for nearly two months.  The conclusion I’ve come to is that because we’re at this juncture of our lives, her illness and the possibility or inevitability of my loss, we have come to a place of mutual understanding of each other.  If she were to miraculously recover I don’t know how our lives would change.  She may just revert back to her busy body self and I may just resume being impatient and selfishly childish.  Or we may forge a new relationship that doesn’t bare any resemblance to the old one.  

I got a message from a woman I consider a dear friend.  Her words brought me to tears.  I don’t think she knew the effect they would have on me.  All day I have felt restless, angry, un-moored.  I felt like a tiny little vessel being tossed in this turbulent stormy water that has become my life.  Her words seemed to be the lifeline I needed to find my way towards the shore.  The waters are still choppy but at least I’m trying to swim towards shore instead of just fighting to stay afloat.  

She met my mom once.  It was the day she brought my son into the world.  It was the day my life changed.  It’s funny how some experiences allow you to cut through the lies society tells us to believe.  In that room, surrounded by women, writhing in agony to bring life into this world, sat the woman who brought me into this world.  Seeing me give birth traumatized her.  She said she had nightmares for days afterwards.  I thought she was nuts but then I realized how much her own mother sheltered her during the moment of her birth.  

Am I wiser now than I was two months ago?  I don’t know.  I know that I sat in the hospital room with her and inside was turmoil.  I knew that no matter how I tried, I would leave everything and everyone and run to her side because I can’t bear to be away from her.  It is not enough for me to go visit her.  I just can’t do it.  In her presence, in my presence, we find shared strength.  My life isn’t “ideal.”  I am giving up my life, changing my family’s life, everything for her.  Maybe she will never know and maybe no one will ever understand the cost to me but I am willing to pay it.  I can’t do anything otherwise.  

We made the choice to raise our babies and financially we have paid the cost.  We chose to build a business, to pursue a career in writing and we are paying the price to pursue our dreams.  I know the cost to me.  I also know what my father and my brother sees when they look at me.  I am not running back home with my tail between my legs.  I have not been defeated.  I never expected God to answer my prayers quite this way.  I never thought he would require this act of sacrifice from me in this season.  I never thought that my help would come at such a great cost.  

But sitting in that hospital room, I told her I had to be with her.  She said she wanted me to be with her.  How can I walk away from what she wants?  I have never been able to walk away from a single thing she has ever asked of me.  I am doing this for her. 

So by the end of this week, I will leave behind the neighborhood I really love and move back towards her busier neighborhood.  I will have to give up my cats which I’m still struggling with.  No one will take 3 middle aged cats unless it’s to adopt them.  I am giving up the privacy of having my own place for a crowded living arrangement with my parents.  I still remember the conversation I had with my dad about perhaps moving in.  I know what he didn’t say but the relief was there in his voice.  My little brother afterwards looked at me and made some comment about contingency plan.  

I am trusting God in all things.  This is the right decision.  I am doing this because they are my parents and my presence is required.  I’m trusting God to unite me with my cats when this season is over and provide me with a home to call my own again.  I’m trusting him to help me get through this season and do what he’s called me to do.  

Someone recently commented, how am I so humble?  I didn’t know I was.  Perhaps I’m too close to myself because all I see is a daughter who’s losing her mother.  I see a woman who is slowly becoming a terrible wife.  A mother who is short and has very little patience for her children.  I see a writer who hides in her words and drapes them around her like a shroud.  Am I humble?  If I am, I don’t see how.  I am open wound, throbbing and bleeding, unable to stop.  I am an exposed nerve, ready to snap.  

Writing is my lone refuge.  It is within words that I find solace.  Funny, how after nearly two decades after I originally conceived the idea for the characters, it is my mother’s illness that has finally helped me find the inspiration and made me able to work towards completing my manuscript.  Don’t you know, the story, in the end, was about daughters losing their mother.