Wet cement will eventually harden..
I leave tomorrow for St Louis. I don’t know how I will get through today. Strange how I have written many times about how fast time is going by… yet time seems to be dragging along at a snails pace. I know I am clock watching. Hurrying time to speed by so it will be tomorrow. I need to leave… I need to get on the road… I need to see her… I need my Mom.
Every trauma that has ever occurred in my life there was a call made to Mom. Her soothing voice, her sage advice – it was always there for me to rely on. It’s my turn. The trauma is hers this time. She is coming to the last crossroad of her life. Will my voice be as soothing for her? Will I have any advice, sage or otherwise, to help her? In my mind I am coming up short.
I’ve been thinking so much about her life.. all her years. All that she has been through, and barely a whimper from her. Of all the things she has lived through, I think my Dad’s death was the hardest to endure. She was so lost for so many years after. She buried her parents and all but one of her sisters. She beat breast cancer! She has lived with emphysema for the last 15 years. And through all these events she remained independent and fiesty, she is the mainstay of our lives. A quiet woman, she kept mostly to herself in all those years, always thinking of someone else, not much thought for herself. Her giving nature and selflessness is who she is.
The family dynamic has shifted yet again. This time though it is in my direction. How will I ever be the rock that she was? I don’t know what’s in store for the next few days.. weeks.. but I feel my shoulders already drooping from the weight of guilt, remorse and great loss.
I am my Mother’s daughter, through all these fears and tears, I will find the strength she has always seen in me.
Hurry up tomorrow.
I'm how old? 