A Season of Life

As summer comes to an end and we enter the season of autumn, I’m reminded that nothing is forever. Mom has been around the sun for ninety-one years, and I know that her season is coming to an end.

I’m spending more time with her now—exhausting, yet precious moments. As she sleeps, I listen to her breath. I observe her skin, so delicate and pale, sometimes gray and even bluish. Her hair is pure white, her fingers crooked and bent with arthritis, yet her hands are still gentle as I hold them in mine.

These are the hands that lovingly cared for me and my siblings.

We didn’t have much at all growing up, but we were always beautifully dressed in hand-me-downs, and there was always food on the table. Even the meals she prepared for us were made with great care and love. Looking back now, I realize how much love was expressed through those hands.

At this time in her life, I find it comforting that what rises to the surface of my memories is her love and tender care. The moments of conflict or criticism seem to have fallen away. My heart is both full and broken as I watch her slowly fade, then come back to us, and fade again.

It has been a roller coaster for my siblings, especially my sister Vickie and me, as we are the ones here, present with Mom and overseeing her care. We are the ones who have spent several nights in the ER after she fell, sometimes so exhausted that all we could do was laugh until we cried. Fortunately, her falls were never serious, and we always brought her back home.

Sometimes it’s our humor that keeps us going.

It has also been a gift to share this journey with my sister. It has brought us closer than ever, another part of this season that I will always treasure.

Perhaps the greatest gift Mom passed on to us is her faith in God, in prayer, and in believing there is something greater than ourselves. Her love for Mother Mary and her devotion to the rosary greatly influenced my own life and spiritual journey.

For about two years now, her body has been riddled with pain. She often asks God to please take her home. She’s had enough.

“I just want to go home to my Father,” she says.

For the past month, my husband has spent a great deal of time with her. He has grown to love her and has treasured the opportunity to know her more deeply. My siblings and I are incredibly grateful for his presence. Having someone she knows and trusts with her has given Mom peace of mind rather than having strangers in her home.

Hospice is also assisting us through this season of her life—another gift and blessing. Everyone on her Hospice team has been an angel.

I will be with her again this evening. Perhaps she is rallying once more, or perhaps she is fading softly. We never really know.

And maybe that is part of what this season is teaching me.

Autumn reminds us that there is a time to hold on and a time to let go. That even as something beautiful begins to fade, love does not.

So, for now, I cherish these precious moments with my Momma.

I hold her hand.

I listen to her breathe.

And when her season does come to an end, I know that the love she gave so freely throughout her life will remain.

She will always and forever live in my heart.