The Lonley Road

She works full time and has cared for her husband, father, father-in-law, and mother-in-law as they went through the dying process at home, in their own beds. She is currently the primary care giver for her 91 year old mother. All the while working full-time , putting a son through college, being an active grandmother and managing a 40-acre piece of property. Her only sibling, a brother, offers no help with Mom.

She does it herself. She does it alone. She does it day in and day out.

Toddler’s Tears

That first time is very special. Its scary and troubling, but it is a gift from God.

“For goodness sake, why are you crying about that!” I was confused and more than a little ticked off.  I couldn’t believe my afternoon was being derailed by a hissy fit from an adult.  It was hard enough doing the yard work and keeping her happy with safe busywork to play at. But now she was flailing her arms in anger and fear, working the yellow jackets into a frenzy. “Get up and MOVE!!!” “Stop swatting at them!!!” She only fought them harder.

I put my arms around her body and lifted her up the best I could. I got her up on the deck and she crumbled in a heap of tears. “I just want to DIE!” she murmured  in pitiful tones.

The mental decline I had become resigned to. But this emotional regression was just self indulgent!

She’s always been the one who was there to comfort you when life got hard. Now she’s crying, in a toddler’s helpless heap of tears, anger and despair. I was mad.

Then my heart melted.  Something outside of my own selfishness told me to hold her and comfort her. I would do anything to make it better for her.  Anything to make her fear go away. And in that moment I knew that things would never be the same. My responsibility had just doubled, and I’d lost my best, most ardent supporter. I was going to have to be the rock now. She’d done the best she could for me over the years. Imperfectly, yes, but the best she could. And now it was my turn to be brave, confident, positive and strong for her.

How to Change Your Mother’s Diaper

She’s been gone from me for six weeks now. I miss her smile, her sense of humor, her dirty jokes! In the whirlwind that moved at glacial speed I finally grew up. I did the thing that I dreaded most–I changed my mother’s diaper. This was huge. This was more momentous than graduating from kindergarten. This was a life passage of the first order. The trials, smiles, tears and thousand little deaths that we experience when our parents become our charges will be approached here with honesty, tenderness, respect and a good dose of humor.