The best
laugh came with a kind heart, an appreciation for life and leading by example.
Her career goal was to become a wife and mother which she accomplished with
zeal and zest for which I will be forever grateful. My love for my mother is
without question and I miss her every day. She loved us enough to say NO,
paddled our bottoms when needed and we certainly needed more than we received,
and told us straight up when we were making a mistake as a child or as an
adult. She shared her wisdom and I am the better for it.
Life
started for her this day in 1932 so today would have been my mother’s 83rd
birthday. I can clearly see her shining brown eyes with their twinkle of happiness
when she was with any or all of her children, grandchildren and
great-grandchildren. She lived her life and encouraged each of her children to
do the same.
It has been four months and 22 days that she left us here which seems like forever and
this morning at the same time. I was blessed with being able to be her caregiver until she required more care that could be provided at home. God worked it out for me to retire early and now I clearly understand the timing was not first and foremost related to my unhappiness at work. It was so I could have some special time with my mother, my private time without outside interference from career or other people, and provide the attention that she so lovingly provided us as babies and small children. It really is the same from feeding, bathing, dressing and diaper changes to other opportunities to help her sit up or walk or move to a wheelchair. I would do it all again in a heartbeat and not change one thing.
I saw this
poem on Facebook which spoke to me and I am sharing it now. It is not meant to
be sad but serves as a reminder that there are no “do overs”, do not wait for a convenient time, just make the time to be in the life of parents at whatever the cost to your so called personal life. You are not too busy and you are being selfish with your time. Share your life with
those you love while they are here to know it and see it. The poem is called
" THE CLOCK OF LIFE "
The
Clock of Life is wound but once
And
no man has the Power
To
know when the Hands will Stop
At
Late or Early Hour
So
you live, love and toil with a will
And
place no faith in tomorrow
For
Then The Hands May Be Still
