It is well with my soul
On a sunny day, five years ago, Jude crawled around with Buddy, on the kitchen floor. As Jude woofed and crawled while Buddy skidded on the vinyl around and around the kitchen island, my mom broke into tears. As I held my mother and she cried,she never cried–and then she cried, I thought about the coming years. I thought about my mom and raising Jude.
… and at the time it seems like you have a long time.
Truth #1–time flew.
Jude walked then ran, went to preschool then “big-kid”school, made fair projects and won ribbons, sang in Christmas programs, went to gymnastics, and learned to ride a two-wheel bike. She caught frogs and made cookies, went on hayrides and savored ice cream with gummy bears – Jude got a baby brother. I measured time by Jude.
… and as Jude grew–my mom celebrated her growth.
Truth #2– I watched my mom, enjoy my daughter.
I watched her smiling as Jude got off the bus the first day of school. Watched as she and Jude had an elephant ear at the fair and looked at Jude’s projects. Watched her clap for Jude at Christmas programs and gymnastics, and as she rode her bike around the neighborhood. Watched as she presented jars of critters she had caught for Jude…waiting for her to come and see them. Watched as she, my grandma, and Jude– the four generations of us- made and decorated sugar cookies. Watched as they picked a pumpkin and rode a hayride together. I watched as mom gave Jude a doll when the baby was born so she would have her own baby to take care of.
… and while we celebrated–I lost my mom.
Truth #3– I lost my mom, gracefully.
Bit-by-bit, slowly over time, you lose someone with dementia. I knew I would lose my mom, but how would I lose her gracefully? I savored each moment. I raised my children, included my mom in everything, and I watched. I celebrated all of the lasts. I wanted to give her everything she ask for–yet more was given to me.
…and as I lost my mom– I grew in grace.
Truth #4– I grew, through losing my mom.
I grew as I was given the opportunity to be patient when I rush through life. The opportunity to be selfless when I am generally self-absorbed. The opportunity to be gentle when I am often critical. The opportunity to be joyful in everyday sadness. The opportunity to be peaceful about losing my mom. The opportunity to know true love. Many of us would not choose the battles we face in life, yet through the battles we are refined as gold through a fire. Maturity comes when we fight through the battle, can celebrate victories, remember the fight it took to be victorious and who we can give credit to on the other side.
Feb 05, 2015