{hold: my momma}

I was trying to figure out my intro entry for the Alzheimer’s walk and ended up going another direction – but here’s some scratch thoughts that were meaningful that I am tucking away on 

this blog…

…

Not to mention I always try to balance sharing the challenging with the uplifting in our journey, and that can be a hard balance to maintain. I could tell the hard stories – like the potentially infuriating moments of my weekdays at home, when my Mom may walk upstairs or make loud noises while my 18month old is napping (at no fault of her own – she forgot they were napping). Asher will wake up early from his nap, throwing off not only his whole day, but also my entire attitude and mood toward my mother. (Read: Rage, which is unfairly directed at her, but has nowhere else to go.)

Or sometimes Charlie and I will have a night out planned, and it can be derailed because Mom’s feelings get hurt when she feels like she isn’t included. (Again – at no fault of her own, she’s lost some of the ability to distinguish boundaries and the need for a couple to be alone. I can understand her fear of being alone, especially as her ability to hold onto the world around her is slipping away. But that doesn’t diminish my frustration over what seems like her ‘childish attitude’ in the moment.)

But then there are the ups – tonight I was feeling particularly frazzled and drained. I’d wrangled my toddler into bed on my own, in the midst of an (unusually) empty house, amid Morris’ cries and flailing due to a bad bout of gas. All I wanted to do was collapse and read, gather my thoughts, but he kept crying – shrieking. Mom came home from her outing and I trekked downstairs when I was on my last leg – asking her if she could just walk the baby and give me a bit of time to rest. And so she does, she steps in and works what I have dubbed her ‘YaYa magic.’ She walks the baby, blows into his ear, and makes lots of noises Charlie and I find a bit goofy. And while I’m furiously typing away nearby in the bed I also notice she’s whispering, over and over to my boy ‘I love you. I love you.’

Tears flow freely; I am richly blessed. I am so grateful for her hands,

her patience,

her love.

I am constantly mourning experiences we don’t get to have together as Mother-daughter and mother-new mother, but I will hold the memory of her whispering, singing over my boys in these early days. I will remember how her hands gave me rest, and how deeply she loves her grandchildren – it’s embedded as deeply in her as something can be.

"For the LORD your God is living among you. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."  Zeph3.17