The Fabric of Life , & End of Life

October 25. Today is my birthday.  and a year ago today my Mother’s last day on this earth. Throughout my adult years every October 25 I would send Mom flowers with a note that read ,

                                                                          

     Congratulations, Mother ! 34 (44,54, 64) years ago today you gave birth to a brown haired, brown eyed baby girl . Thank you , Mom. I love you . 

     I think of my darling Mother that last day, laying  on the hospice bed , opening her eyes; her body tired and worn out, lovingly looking into my eyes as I swab her mouth and take her hand. She draws me near and whispers  Happy Birthday, Kathy. I kiss her cheek . 

     This day, my 69th birthday, memories of my Mother flood my heart; I picture her happy smile and think  of her goodness, her joy of life and genuine kindness, and care for others . I think of her deep, abiding faith in Jesus. How she  would say, He will never let you down, no matter what.

     I know how blessed I am to have had Mom for 68 yrs.  My Mother , my first friend ; always my best friend.  

     I reflect on the intersection of my birth date,  and Mama departing this life - two hours past midnight , 2 a.m. October 26.  Although , our trials and heartaches not always easy to understand , or accept; the anguish sometimes so sad , and overwhelming,  I believe there are no coincidences, only Godincidences , that He threads the needle and weaves the fabric of our life. For His better plan and purpose.   With the date of my birth , and the date of my Mother’s passing from this life to be born anew in the Heavenly kingdom so closely linked ,  I am ever thankful for the eternal, loving, special bond my Mother and I share 

     So, as I remember my Mother today .. I say, 

Congratulations, Mom! ! 69 years ago today you gave birth to the brown eyed, brown haired girl 

you prayed for.  Thank you , Mom ! I am so very grateful!  I love you forever and always, Kathy.

                                                                   

Confused Memory, but forever love

i sleep next to the same man i have slept next
to for over 40 years , although he doesn’t
always know who i am . We sit together in the
TV room and he’ll ask where his wife is, i say
i’m right here, dear. No, no, says he, and points
to our Wedding picture hanging on the wall ; that’s
my wife . Yes, i say. That’s me . Just a long time
ago.  He wonders aloud whose house this is,
where’s the bedroom , and asks the time.
7 o’clock  i tell him. In the morning ? No, at night.
i mention our two sons, Garrett and Gavin
and he smiles . A minute or two passes, then a clear
moment of recognition, and he says, such good
men are they. The best part of me . I am so
proud of them , and love them so much.
Another minute or two pass, and again he
asks, whose house is this ?
And my heart in its longing , weeps for the
memory of how my husband used to be ,
but grateful for the moments we still share