I’m learning lessons in brokenness….
Yesterday I had a mostly nice visit with Mom. It started out with a need to change her, which is never fun, and brings out some ugly words that she never used to say. But after that we sat cozy on the love seat and I asked her specific questions about what she liked.
It was reassuring to hear her respond, as I would have expected her to, so much of the time. She knew that she didn’t like picking cotton, or biking or swimming. She knew that she did like holding babies and sewing dresses and typing.
Her confident answers made me happy. There is a comfort in knowing that even though she doesn’t do these things anymore she still knows her preferences. And I smiled because she made her “yesses” and “no’s” loudly and with feeling.
And the whole time we were talking Mom was cuddled up next to me. Sometimes she leaned her head against me. Sometimes she patted my arm. Most of the time she kept licking her pointer finger and using it to try to “clean” freckles and spots off my arm.
She didn’t know who I was, but she seemed comfortable with me. (And she cared enough to want my arm “clean”.) We sang songs together and laughed and talked.
Much of her language now is fragmented and often doesn’t make sense. It makes me think of bits of different colored broken glass. An individual piece can seem strange and maybe ugly. But when the bits are arranged into a mosaic it can make a picture.
My times with Mom now are somewhat broken. And parts of each visit are often ugly. But the fragmented language and bits of memories and sweet, quirky ways still give me a picture of my precious mama. The picture isn’t what it used to be and it keeps changing—but mom is still there. And she is still beautiful and dear.
So I will trust God with the changing picture of mama. I will ask Him to give me eyes to see through the ugly stuff and capture the sweet. And I will have faith that when I only see broken bits, He sees the whole picture. And I will rejoice that one day He will restore Mama, and give her a heavenly body and mind, more perfect than I can imagine.