L-O-V-E

"Life is queer with its twists and turns..."

In the year that Mother Watson died, I experienced an existential crisis. She was one of my favorite relatives, my mom's oldest sister, my cheerleader, and my role model. 

In the final months of her life, she was surrounded by family caregivers. I even traveled to Dallas to stay with her so her granddaughter (primary caregiver) could get some rest. Her death made me sad. However, I accepted that it was her time and I released her on her journey to eternity. After her death, I was overwhelmed by the display of genuine love and care from the people who knew her. She made her mark.

It led me to question who would be there for me at the end of my life. Who would take care of me if I couldn't care for myself? I was single with no kids at the time. I told my mom about my fear of having no one there, and she said, without hesitation, "I'll take care of you." I said, "I'm going to live a long time, and you won't be here. I need somebody younger." We both laughed. Then, she proceeded to tell me that as much good as I put out in the world, I would never have to worry about that. Plus, I can create the circle that I need. She started naming my friends and said we were family and would care for each other. She was right (as always).

Today, we're no longer able to have conversations like that. In fact, I don't remember the last real conversation I had with my mom. A lot of her talking now is disjointed, confusing, or incomplete. Dementia has scrambled her brain. Yet, she still knows I'm her daughter, and sometimes... sometimes she knows she's my (only) favorite mother. 

Her words still ring true too. We recently faced an unexpected hospital visit. I called my friend to pick up my baby and I asked her to bring some trail mix because I was hungry. I thought that would hold me for a couple of hours before I could leave the hospital for dinner. She met me at the hospital and handed me a bag filled with snacks, not just trail mix. She nourished my soul and my stomach.  I teared up at her thoughtfulness. I ended up staying at the hospital much longer than expected, so I'm grateful that she had the foresight to give me more than I requested. 

God keeps reminding me that I am loved and I am not alone.