His mercies are new every morning...

 Originally posted on Wordpress 

It is getting harder…

Mom has had some major changes lately. Actually, a more appropriate way to say it is, mom has had a major decline. I really dislike that word, decline. We use it at work to help families understand what is happening with their loved one, but there is no way that one word can describe the loss.

There are times she is not sure who I am. She knows I am important, but she’s not sure why. She is showing signs of “sundowners”. This burst of energy, and need to move at bedtime. She’s always been a night owl, and I have always been a morning person. About the time I am ready to lay down she is ready to start moving. I have a baby monitor in her room so I can see, and hear her if she needs me, and I have to admit, I probably spend way too much time just watching her, instead of sleeping. My cousin sent some pictures that my aunt had put away the other day. There were pictures of mom with clear, and confident eyes, and that sassy personality of hers. It made me sad to realize I had forgotten when she was like that. I have slowly grown accustomed to who she is now.

Yesterday it hit me hard. I miss my mom…

She wasn’t always easy to get along with. She had a strong personality, and like me she would argue with a fence post. She liked things done her way, because that was the right way. She loved pretty things, plates you don’t eat on, jewelry, clothes, but mostly shoes. She could walk better in heels than she could in flats. She was my biggest cheerleader, but sometimes my harshest critic. She was so smart, and creative. Her hands were always busy, and when she became interested in a new hobby she was all in. She had enough leather, sewing, stamping, flower arranging, crochet, macrame, calligraphy, and cross stitch supplies to open her own craft store. She loved fiercely, and sometimes, okay, most of the time, she was overprotective. She loved nursing, and taking care of her patients, and her doctors. She didn’t have a large number of friends, she didn’t trust easy, but she cherished the ones she had. She loved her family. Her mom, and dad, her brothers, and especially her nieces, and nephews. Her grandchildren were her pride and joy. She never had a baby of her own, so we learned together. She had one love of her life, my daddy, and she kept on loving him even after the divorce. She was gracious with dad, and his wife, and allowed me to be with all of them together for holidays, and celebrations at their home. Most of all, she accepted me, a malnourished, broken, little girl into her home, and her heart, just a few months after she married my dad. She was not a perfect mom, there is no such thing, but she loved me, and did the best she knew how.

I miss my mom…

I am grateful for the sunrise, for rest at night, and the promise of a new day. Mostly, I am grateful his mercies are new every morning.

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