Sitting on my mother’s hospital bed holding her hand gave me a chance to look closely at her now aged face that was once smooth and youthful.
Her eyes were closed, but the tightness from her fingers gripping my hand was strong and seemed to be desperate, telling me she was fully awake.
I looked past her body that seems to have given up. I looked at all the photos of her family lining the window shelf, brought in to help remind her why she needs to keep fighting. I looked at Kyle holding Leo a few short months before he died, a pic I ironically took on Mothers Day…the one that now stares at me from his headstone.
Memories exploded inside my breaking heart!
I saw through tears my mother and I briskly walking around Kessling Park with Kyle in a stroller! We were talking and laughing at stupid things, stopping every now and then to pick up a dropped pacifier or toy. Mother and I used to walk for exercise, having deep mommy- daughter conversations…anything just to be together.
Now I sit on her bed, holding her hand at Miller’s Rehab, watching her breathe, feeling her love flow from her hand into mine…reaching deep inside my aching heart trying to comfort me with her mother’s love.
Every 20 minutes or so she will open her eyes, look deep into mine and whisper “I love you”.
I squeeze her hand, holding back my tears and put my gaze on another photo.
This one is her and me laughing about 4 years ago at Clear lake. I remember this day like it happened an hour ago! We had lunch at the lake, we watched the geese, Kyle was still alive, Leo was a baby and all was well with our souls!
We talked about family, life, God, but mostly enjoyed the quietness heard just being together!
Now, I sit with her as her body says ‘enough, I’m tired, I want to go home.’ And, yes, we’re still talking about family, life, with God inside our hearts, as I sit and she lays…just being together.