Diff'rent Strokes

I've tried to write a post for several days now with no success. I've just not had the heart for it, to be honest.

My Mom had a stroke last week.

She's been out of the hospital for a few days now, but had another visit to the ER this afternoon. She didn't have another stroke, but it's not so good. The doctors don't really know what's wrong. Or why she had the stroke to begin with.

So, yeah.

She's 51. Not nearly old enough to have had a stroke. Barely old enough to be a grandmother (but don't tell her I said that - I have to have something to tease her about). And certainly not old enough yet to have enjoyed her granddaughters the way grandmothers should. And she's hardly had enough time with her true love, after 21 years alone.

See, I'm an only child, and was somewhat of a loner as a child. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty much the ultimate extrovert, but even now I have few enough close girlfriends. I have a difficult time making good friends, even though I'm super friendly and love being around people. My parents split up when I was really small, and my Dad and I are still working out some of the kinks in our (still very close) relationship. But my Mom has always kind of been my rock. Even though she often didn't want to be, she's been my girlfriend and sometimes my everything. I cry to her when I won't cry to anyone else. She raised me, mostly alone, and has spoken truth and love, encouragement and support into my life in ways that can't even be described. She can still go and talk to my Dad and help him understand me - something that I love most of the time, but occasionally loathe. Usually when I'm in hormonal-overdrive-and-I'm-now-the-wicked-hormonal-witch mode and just want to throw around blame and neither one of them (or anyone else) will stand for it. Which is a good and miserable thing all at the same time.

I'm afraid. Despite the lighthearted title, there is nothing about this that feels at all fun or funny. All I really feel right now is fear.

I'm mostly afraid that I don't have the time to tell her all the things that need to be said... Which is mostly nothing, and all of everything. To tell the hopes that dare be dreamed into existence. Or at least into verbalization. To laugh all the laughter that needs release. To pray all the prayers and argue the disagreements and share the achingly beautiful moments of motherhood with the one woman who knows me best and has been there already.

My Mom is funny, overly-neurotic, incredibly smart, strong and resourceful. And that's just for starters. I used to think that I wasn't much like her in personality, but after children, I know that I certainly got her temper. God help me, patience has yet to show her sweet face in any of the doorways of my life. I pray that changes soon!

My husband doesn't really understand, although he has tried. He's an only child, too (odd, I know), but isn't that close to his parents and claims that he doesn't even want to begin to plumb the depths of my relationship with my parents... Particularly my Mom. *Sigh* He's a man. That's probably all I needed to say to begin with.

So now I'm thinking about life and death and moments. Where I want to be in 20 years. What's important. What's not. Not that I wasn't already thinking about these things. I've been in the middle of an almost-full-on "gotta change crisis"... I mean, I've consistently found myself in the last weeks thinking about what in my life needs change - this is something that I do on a fairly regular basis, but lately, it's been the music to which my heart beats its drum. Change, change, CHANGE.

Simplify. My life is filled with too much noise.

Live the moment. I spend so much time doing that I often get lost in the joy of just being.

Play. I've lost my freedom to play... I need to get it back.

Breathe. I feel the call of the Spirit to breathe in that quiet space meant only for me.

Walk. I know that I must walk boldly toward that destiny to which I have been called. Pray that I still stand firm and not reach toward that which is folly.

Trust. I need to let go and just do, just live, just walk, just believe, and just change.

So where does all this leave me? Vacillating between tears and glory. Between emotional numbness and the realization that there is nothing to which I can hold firmly except Him and the perfect holiness of His grace.

All I can say is, "Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad, ve atah Melech ha'olam oseh ma'aseh vereshit."

(Blessed are you, oh Lord Adonai, Adonai is one, and you are the King of the universe, the source of creation and its wonders.)

Blessed is He. I pray for peace.