"Upsetting the "normal" while creating the beautiful." Annette Kruschek |
This is a picture of my Mom's left hand. A few months ago I asked her if I could make a mold of her hand as a keepsake. I didn't do this because I think she would be taken from me tomorrow but I also know my plans for her future are not up to me, so acting on my impulse was important. I have one regret with my Dad, and that was not making a mold of his hand in the final weeks of his illness.
This hand. To some, you may look at this hand and just see age... old age; wrinkles, boney and bent fingers. To others this may look like a piece of artwork created for display but to me this left hand tells a story and if it could talk it would say, I may look imperfect because of my bent and boney fingers. I may look weak and weathered but what lies within this hand is strength; more strength than that of a young adult, faith the size of a mountain and wisdom that would shock you. This left hand is my Mom's dominate hand. Her writing hand, eating hand, tie your shoes hand... everything hand. This hand is also the hand that is affected by her Parkinson's Disease. This hand trembles and shakes. The right hand isn't affected. Calm as a cucumber. Why? Why would God do this? I've learned with my journey walking with God that he doesn't "do anything" he writes our stories long before we ever bless the world with our presence. He knew the struggles she would encounter. He knew the trials she would endure but he also knew her STRENGTH, her grit for life and her wisdom to embrace each chapter with faith. We all walk with our own "crutches" some are visible to the naked eye and others are held within us but I promise you we ALL have them. My Mom's disease is progressing. Her ability to do many daily tasks independently is becoming less and less. I watch this hand try its best to hold a spoon to eat her meals to only have it shake and see the food spill in disappointment. I watch this hand focus on holding a puzzle piece in hopes to find its home quickly to only see it fall on the floor. I watch this hand try to hold a pen and place it to the pages of a diary but realize that another chapter must end. Her story is changing, like chapters of a story. Her meals, her puzzles and her diary all these things are a struggle because of this hand. BUT... This hand that trembles and shakes is also the hand that has brought 8 healthy children into this world, held the hand of her high school sweetheart, graded hundreds if not thousands of algebra exams of eighth grade students, scratched the backs of her children and last but not least... rubbed the finish off the beads of her beloved rosaries. Her hand; boney, wrinkled and aged has more life, strength and faith in it than that of anyone I know. I am blessed. I have the privilege of living with my Mom. I am honored that she trusts our family enough to take care of her but with that we have a front row seat to seeing how quickly a chapter can change. Our family sees the changes. We see the strong woman who puts on a smiling face for those outside of these doors. She may be almost 90 years young but she is the last person to tell you that something hurts or she needs help. This pride, this grit for life, this will to fight each and everyday makes me so proud to be her daughter. I can go from one minute telling my husband, "I will never be that stubborn" to the next telling him, "she is amazing with her attitude for life." Our attitude about life is really what can sustain us through the hard times. My Mom knows that her faith is carrying her through these tough chapters right now. Praying while offering all this baggage up to God is what continues to keep her living each and everyday. Yes, a good dish of melted chocolate ice cream certainly helps lighten the load but faith... large faith is what makes each day doable. I cannot advocate enough for the older generation. Without them we would not be here. Unfortunately I have noticed that senior citizens are sometimes given the short end of the stick. Some people even snicker and make comments at how they act and what they say. I see firsthand each and everyday how life is full circle. In our home we have an age span of 86 years. What's interesting, my three year olds absolutely contribute to keeping my 89 year old Mother spry. God knew years ago that my Mom needed them as much as they needed her. All of my children benefit from having their Grandma live within our home. I only wish that more people could see how short life really is and take advantage of this time. This is the time to create as many memories as possible. Poster boards at a funeral, speeches in the cafeteria, obituaries filled with lovely words are wonderful tributes when someone has passed BUT if the person is still living then take the time to look them in the face rather than look through a photo album for the perfect picture for the collage. Tell them how much you love them rather than waiting for the obituary. Grab the flowers now and drop them off at their home rather then putting them at the gravesite. Life is busy. Our schedules are jammed packed. More packed than they should be doing "busy work". Fill up your day with people. People who have given you the gift of life or have made a major imprint on your life. Don't wait for your schedule to open up. Open up your schedule for someone today. Someone who is not getting any younger. Someone who is struggling to fight for the very next day. Go out and be that person to make someone smile. My Mom's mold sits above my sink. Since I spend half of my day in the kitchen these days I can gaze upon my Mom's hand and see how quickly life changes. I look at that mold and remind myself that one day I will have these same boney fingers and I pray that my family will be at my side pushing me along to carry on each and everyday. If this hand could talk it would say... Thank you. Thank you for seeing me as a person and not as a aged human being. Thank you for treating me with respect and dignity. Thank you for loving me, helping me and reading my mind when I was scared for the future but too afraid to say it out loud. Today I look at that hand and grateful for another day. I couldn't love that boney, wrinkled and aged hand more than I do at this very moment. Thank you Mom. Thank you for the gift of you.
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AuthorI am a proud Mother to eight children and a wife to my very best friend. I work hard, play hard and love until it hurts. Archives
January 2023
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