My Mother

~Mom at Christmas 2012~

As some of you may know, my mother had a major stroke back in April.  It's one of those life altering moments. One minute I was showing her how to use her FB page, and an hour later I get a call from Dad. Just. Like. That.  I still remember the first few minutes after ending the call. How time slowed down and everything felt as if it was under water. I'd had that feeling before and I knew what to expect.... it didn't make it any easier.

Throughout the month of April, as I prepared the kids and myself for our big trip, I spent as much time as possible driving into Nashville to visit my sick mother.  There are certain, horrible things we all know that we will have to face in life: the death of our parents, sick children, the death of our spouse. However, walking into that ICU room every night was one of the more difficult things I've ever done. Seeing my mother and knowing that her brain wasn't registering my face. Looking upon those hands that once stroked my hair. Seeing this woman, who use to drop everything in order to put a bandaid on my little cuts, covered in i.v. hoses and tubes.... I broke down every night.

"We need you, mom. We aren't the same without you. Our family is falling apart."

Fast forward to today- the end of July. My mother currently lives in a rehab center not 8 miles from my home. She is still paralyzed on her right side and suffers greatly from severe depression. She has been in and out of hospital. She is in a fight every moment... a fight against a monster called Aphasia. We laugh together about it, though. She will attempt to spell a word, and completely botch it. She can't count to save her life, and the alphabet is a thing of the past. I get tickled when, upon failing to say what she wants, she attempts to spell it. She tried to give me her room number over the phone. It's pretty funny.

But the other side of this, not so funny. My mother is smart. She's highly intelligent. Above looks, fashion, or fame, my parents always stressed smarts and books. They never taught us prejudice of any kind unless it was against ignorance. Bring home a guy of another race? No problem... what does he read? How does he think? Vote? What are his views on the current administration?  My mother was a voracious reader, always turning toward history and politics. Now she can't read.

My father has taken her care as his new job. He is at her side every morning around 8am. He remains there until supper time each night. I go in late in the afternoons a few times a week and sit with her and visit while giving Dad a break. The kids and I take care of his pool, laundry, yard work; and cook and change his bed out as we can.  Dad is wonderful- and exhausted.

So why write about this now? Why bring it up after so many months? I'm weary, I guess. I want Mom home, I want her well, I want that time machine.

I help and that helps me. It helps my kids to give to another. With my actions, I'm teaching them the roll of family and obligations. They are learning to care for others who are weak. I'm silently telling each of them, "This is what I want you to do for me."

~Buster and The Professor spending an afternoon in her hospital room~

~The Professor and The Mechanic visiting with Mom.~



Here is a short video made of Buster and The Professor one afternoon by my friend while I was visiting with mom:

(Not the best quality here, I know, but blame my neophyte self, not her phone!)

A Little Mid-Morning Musing

"I don't have the time to invest so much into my kids."

So, Mom is in the hospital again. I've spent the last few days between visits with her and working on her home getting it ready for when she returns.

I've struggled with my free time, attempting to smile into each little face and pour into them what they need. I've been working on laughing with them and snatching a few moments with each of them.

All this to say that my house has suffered greatly.

Today I hit a wall.
Today I'm still in bed at 9am.


So, what does all of this sacrifice look like in the long run?

Each of my kids has come into my room to give me love as they see it. One to share a lego creation. One to cuddle. And a 4yo to ask to make my bed. The 14yo is happiest bringing me coffee in bed.

Now they are all in the living room and doing school. I didn't ask them to, they are gathering around books and maps and creating a historical background for a game they are working on. All based on scientific facts. This means that they are pouring over atlases and encyclopedias. They are working on terms like "bi-plane" verses "Piper Cub" and "Where is Africa in relation to England?". They are looking up "Why the cricket shed it's skin", and "How best should we handle the snake?" I hear the 14yo teaching her brothers how important it is that their toy use proper sentence structure.
 All the while, they are using their Legos and Hello Kitty's and Squinkies.

Many people don't feel the importance in training their young kids. I disagree. I've spent years training them to be contributing members to society. We learn together, as we help others, how to love our fellow man.



And, while I may not push one certain curriculum as the end all and be all, my kids are learning to learn.

In the end, when they each spread their wings and fly off into their futures, they will have learned these things:
-to help others in need
-a clean house is never more important than human relations
-Family is sometimes all that you have
-A love of research and learning will get you through any hole in any education
-Walking across a room to speak to a lonely person is worth more than gold.

So, they may not be able to read Latin. They may never understand algebra, but they will be conquerors in life.

Mom's In Hospital Again

Today was spent dealing with life and things and death and eternity. Today, folks, I'm tired. Today I was up past 4Am helping to deal with my mother's return to the hospital. Today I discovered that my mother is afraid to die.