worn and weary

I was worn and weary, so were you.

You looked at me with tears and said, “When are we going home Nancy?”  I thought I was going home today, you promised. ”

“We are home, Mom.  Dad’s here, we are sitting on your couch.  Don’t you recognize it?  Look at all your pictures, they are all here.”

While she was in the hospital and in rehab my sister and I orchestrated the move to independent living.  She didn’t sign any of the papers, adamant that she wanted to stay in the house she so lovingly cared for.  It was necessary, neither Mom or Dad could climb the stairs.  Mom was stubborn.  I am stubborn.  She missed the warm light flooding into her back porch, her favorite spot.  I missed it too.  I couldn’t fool her, she knew me so well.

I desperately needed my mom to be my mom again.

I grabbed my laptop.  “Let’s listen to a hymn, mom. What would you like?”

How Great thou Art.”

She leaned back, eyes closed she began to sing.

Hope and light surrounded us as she gently covered my hand in hers.

PS This week, my mom’s birthday, I celebrate her.  Last year I was with her, this year she celebrates her home in heaven.  I haven’t been able to write about her for some time.  This is my start. xo nanc




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