Time and Again
Today is my mom’s 93rd birthday. We gathered at her nursing home on Sunday, some of her children, spouses, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Just a portion of the brood her and Dad started in 1950 with their marriage. This family is now closing in on 130 members. Now, that’s a legacy, growing and ongoing!
Her sister Helen joined us as well. Those two go way back :-) Way back to a childhood that offered some challenges along with hard work and fun. Tough memories and pleasant memories. Those challenges shaped Mom just like mine have shaped me. Yet, here we are, resilient and grateful. (I am speaking for you Mom, but I think you would agree.)
My sister Ruth and I stopped by the day before and this combination on the wall struck me.
The smile on her face, from a picture taken several years ago, when there was still conversation and recognition, warms my heart. I miss that smile, but we’ll take the ones we can sometimes get from her now.
The bird clock came with her from the farm when she moved. Mom is a lifelong birdwatcher and would often report back on which ones she saw and heard on her walks or time out in in the garden. The clock was a fitting gift for such an observer and listener.
The clock brought to my mind several aspects of time. Her 93 years on the planet add up to nearly 34,000 days. She spent over ten years of her life pregnant. She has been in the nursing home nearly seven years now. Her and Dad were married for 48 years and she has been a widow for over 25 years now.
And then there are the twenty-four hours in each day. Mom found purpose, joy, and gratitude in what others may have considered mundane. Daily chores and daily walks brought daily meaning. How many hundreds and thousands of meals did she make, loads of laundry, diaper changes? How many hours nursing children at her breasts? How many hours planting, tending, and harvesting in her garden?
Some of her days have been devastating and difficult as well. And now her family watches the devastation of dementia. What are these 24-hour segments like for her? Is there any sense of time left? Most likely not. But for us there is. These years of decline, of no longer knowing who we are, no longer being able to ask how we and our families are doing. No longer able to tell us about her garden, the weather’s latest ups and downs, news of her extended family, and her upcoming plans and appointments.
This is a different kind of grieving, but also for me a time to reflect and receive the lessons she taught and that her life still provides us.
We don’t know how much time Mom has left. We do know the tremendous impact her time here has had on each of us and on this little corner of the world.
Life is precious. Life is fragile. Love is strong. Happy Birthday Mom! I love you.
