Not too many days from now will mark sixty-two years since my sweet momma facilitated my entrance into this world. By then she had already packed me around for months with me causing her all sorts of discomfort I'm sure. Not being a woman, I can only imagine the discomfort and pain my arrival initiated.
My mother was a sweet, smart, talented, hard-working soul. She labored so hard for my family and the church. Over the years she cleaned up a countless number of my messes, fed me, clothed me, and loved me. Not to mention all of the things she did for others. If you read this blog for long, you will hear more tales of her exploits in the coming days, months, and years if I'm given them.
I'd like to tell you that her load with me became lighter over the years, but I'm afraid the reality is that I remained a challenge and source of pain.Those of you who are mothers know much more about this than I do. Hopefully, there were a few moments through the course of my life that brought her joy.
In a few more days, I will be noting the day and the hour my mother left this earthly life. She, as virtually all women in my family are, was diagnosed with cancer. She received treatment and was declared "clean," also as many are. But years later those out-of-control cells came back to disturb her body once again.
Treatments resumed. She got sicker and weaker. My aunt, her youngest sister, along with my sister and I, set up a rotation where we could go out and be with her and see to her needs. If we lived a little closer to mother, this would not be such an ordeal, but she lived fifteen hours away. She had remarried seven years after my father died and moved to west Texas. My step-dad had family in the area. So, it was fly or drive out and back every three weeks for each of us. I can't say enough about the kindness Hannibal Regional Hospital, the HR department, and my coworkers displayed to me as I took advantage of intermittent FMLA. I will be forever grateful for that!
As time passed, we had to enlist the help of hospice to get a power bed, supplies, and pain medications. The important thing was that we were able to keep her in her own home, which she built on a beautiful little lake, Buffalo Springs Lake, east of Lubbock. As the Lord would orchestrate, I had the last shift of mom's life.
Mom loved meat off of the grill. I knew she was tired of things pureed in the blender (I'm looking at that blender Paula and I bought her right now on my kitchen counter as I type). "Mom, would you like some barbeque?" Her answer, "Yes!" So I went to the store and got some steaks. I knew she wouldn't be able to eat it, but just putting it in her mouth, rolling it around experiencing the flavor and smelling it, would lift her spirit!
Cleaning mom's house a few times, doing a few loads of her laundry, cooking for her and my step-dad a few meals could not make up for all she did for me, but it was something at least. The incredible intimacy of being with your mother, cleaning her, dressing her, dealing with her urinary catheter, giving her medications, is not something a man takes lightly. A bit earlier on I asked her if she was comfortable with me doing all those things and she said, "Son, there's no one else I'd rather have."
As my mother marked the time of my arrival on this earth, I had the awesome privilege of marking her stepping off time to be with Jesus. I listened to her heart and lungs as she appeared to relax and be still. I recorded the time. She fought the good fight, and now she's home.
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