Part of the Blogging A to Z Challenge. I’m blogging for one month a post every day except Sundays during April thematically from A to Z. Find out more here.
A curse that steals.
A gift of time.
Bittersweet in its taking and giving.
To watch a vibrant, passionate force that once blazed a path with sunshine and laughter, fade away. To care for a failing loved one in ways you never thought you could. And to do it with love. Carrying them on their journey. As they once carried you.
To let go of the barriers that rose high between you and them. It no longer matters. Resentments and anger stripped away. Peace, acceptance, and grace left behind. Blessed to have shared in this wondrous life’s exploration.
To watch them suffer. To pray for them to go. And in their suffering, you’re eased into saying goodbye as you leave them behind.
To listen as a heartbeat celexa grows slower. To touch a hand that can no longer grasp. To close your eyes and listen to breaths grow fainter, like slow waves rolling to shore. A shore you cannot see. Moving towards another place. Closer to heaven.
Cancer. A thief unseen. It gives and takes. You must greedily take from all it gives. Its everlasting gift is to give you the longest goodbye. And then it takes for the last time.
And in that final taking I was able to speak my last words to you. “Mom, you loved me with a never-failing love. You gave me strength and sweet security. And then you did the hardest thing of all; you let me go and set me free. Every day I try to be a mother like the mom you were to me.”
The hardest thing to do.
The most tender thing to do.
Is to let them go and set them free.
And to say goodbye to your mother, forever.