Friday, February 11, 2011

Grama Dotty

My mother lies in a bed at the hospital. She cannot communicate. She does not respond much. She is asleep most of the time and it is nearly impossible to awaken her. Once in a while, she will scratch her face, pull off a cord, fiddle with her blanket or move her leg. Mostly her eyes are closed.

A blood clot, something so simple, is responsible for this.

It seems so silly to blog about it because it is as common to go through this as getting the flu. But with all of them it is their mother. This is mine.

Tonight, I wiped her very dry mouth and lips. While she lay there unresponsive, I applied the brightest red lipstick I could find in Walgreens. Then a layer of vitamin ointment. She is beautiful. And even though she will not give any indication of a visitor's presence, I know that she would be happy to know a fresh coat of lipstick is ready for them. And if she could, she would kiss them and leave a bit of that lipstick on their cheek.

I do not know what tomorrow will bring. But today is a day for lipstick.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Gift

Today I'm different. I am usually so bright and cheerful most of the day. But a very special friend passed away yesterday, the father of one of my Webelos scout boys. My head has been achy, my heart heavy, my eyes puffy, my mind stricken...

So I watched High School Musical yesterday afternoon. I watched High School Musical 2 today. Not all at once, but it lightened the day to watch something utterly young and frivolous.

I talked to Sarah today and I was wrapped in her love. I talked with the cub scouts about Ruben's dad and I was happy to share my feelings of love for them. I talked with Sister Craig and I again bore my feelings. I feel so much better now.

Someone said that when a good depression comes upon you (not the clinical kind), just sit down, cry, throw a tantrum, eat a half a pie and enjoy it. I am not sure why this hit me so hard. I know Ruben Sr. is happy and at peace. I know the gospel is true and I know the gospel. So why the attack?

But the bigger question is: Why the blanket of healing that come with such overwheming warmth? I am amazed at the ability I have to move on and to be my perky self again. In my special place I carry my little tender griefs, never forgetting the part they play in my life. But the power to pick up and move ahead is a gift. A gift from the Spirit.

Amazing Grace.