Sitting here next to my mother’s hospital bed, I’m not sure whether to lovingly smack her around a bit for not seeking medical help earlier simply because she didn’t want to spoil Thanksgiving OR squeeze her so tight for so long that the blood clots in her heart will be forced out of her body altogether. Conflicted, I’m struck by how it’s always so good to see her, but not like this.
And that thought leaves me vulnerably coming to grips with a raw and irritating truth. My mother is NOT invincible as once thought. She is not indestructible, as she might have considered herself to be. She is not even immortal, as most of us had assumed without even realizing it. It’s just that there has always been her, and I think somewhere along the line we have all taken for granted that there would always be her. Talk to those who know and love her, and you’ll find that they simply can’t imagine life without her. Even if we could, we wouldn’t want to.
If you think me melodramatic, you clearly haven’t met my mother. Let’s just suffice it to say that whoever coined the popular phrase “dynamite comes in small packages” obviously was referring to my mom. It’s as if she were one of those characters on the TV series “Heroes”, and spunkiness was her super power. She doesn’t know the word “quit”, she delivers food to “old people” and she’s always said she’d “rather wear out than rust out”.
Taking that to heart, she’s busier now at 80 than she’s ever been. Volunteering for countless local organizations, she’s been elected as President of most of them, and has won more humanitarian awards than anyone else I know. She’s gained a certain level of unexpected notoriety in her bustling little city…being featured in a ridiculous number of newspaper articles, non-profit newsletters and even on a local billboard. She’s left quite a mark on this tight-knit community! In her “spare time” she works out 3 times a week…earning a front-row spot in her Taebo class, and truth be told, lifts more weight in the gym than most people half her age.
Tiny in stature, but gigantic in heart, she has spent the bulk of her life as an ambassador of good will and hope. She has invested the best of herself in humankind, and has championed the cause of kindness. Her fingerprints are all over the hearts and lives of entire generations of people…and I’m proud to say that she IS the stuff of which legends are made.
And yet on this day, she finds herself resting precariously in the hands of a loving God, being made uncomfortably aware that her days are numbered before the Lord, and most likely getting a stronger dose of her own frailty than she would’ve cared to have taken on her own. She has abruptly arrived at a place of a fresh appreciation for every moment of every day…cherishing everyone that has made her life so colorful, and so worth living. Something we would all benefit from, whether young or old, if we could just see our lives through her eyes.
And that thought leaves me vulnerably coming to grips with a raw and irritating truth. My mother is NOT invincible as once thought. She is not indestructible, as she might have considered herself to be. She is not even immortal, as most of us had assumed without even realizing it. It’s just that there has always been her, and I think somewhere along the line we have all taken for granted that there would always be her. Talk to those who know and love her, and you’ll find that they simply can’t imagine life without her. Even if we could, we wouldn’t want to.
If you think me melodramatic, you clearly haven’t met my mother. Let’s just suffice it to say that whoever coined the popular phrase “dynamite comes in small packages” obviously was referring to my mom. It’s as if she were one of those characters on the TV series “Heroes”, and spunkiness was her super power. She doesn’t know the word “quit”, she delivers food to “old people” and she’s always said she’d “rather wear out than rust out”.
Taking that to heart, she’s busier now at 80 than she’s ever been. Volunteering for countless local organizations, she’s been elected as President of most of them, and has won more humanitarian awards than anyone else I know. She’s gained a certain level of unexpected notoriety in her bustling little city…being featured in a ridiculous number of newspaper articles, non-profit newsletters and even on a local billboard. She’s left quite a mark on this tight-knit community! In her “spare time” she works out 3 times a week…earning a front-row spot in her Taebo class, and truth be told, lifts more weight in the gym than most people half her age.
Tiny in stature, but gigantic in heart, she has spent the bulk of her life as an ambassador of good will and hope. She has invested the best of herself in humankind, and has championed the cause of kindness. Her fingerprints are all over the hearts and lives of entire generations of people…and I’m proud to say that she IS the stuff of which legends are made.
And yet on this day, she finds herself resting precariously in the hands of a loving God, being made uncomfortably aware that her days are numbered before the Lord, and most likely getting a stronger dose of her own frailty than she would’ve cared to have taken on her own. She has abruptly arrived at a place of a fresh appreciation for every moment of every day…cherishing everyone that has made her life so colorful, and so worth living. Something we would all benefit from, whether young or old, if we could just see our lives through her eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment