Sunday, October 30, 2011

"Ups and Downs"

It's Friday morning and it's been a long week. Thinking that things can't get much worse, I jump out of bed and head downstairs. I do my usual morning routine for mother, say my goodbyes and prepare to leave. I can hear the chatter of my daughter and her children as they enter "Nana's house." My oldest daughter Blythe, does the honors of sitting with mother while I'm at work half a day. In return, I drop off her girls at school on my way out.

As I exit mother's room, I turn off the kitchen light. A hush comes over her apartment. Everything goes still. The television is blank, the lights are out. What have I done? I grab my phone and call my husband frantically, knowing I have less than 20 minutes to drop the girls off at school and get to work. No answer. I finally reach him several hours later, assuring me that it's something minor and not to worry.

Thinking the day will only get better, I do my duties at work, stop by the grocery store and head home. Mother's previous home is on my way, so I stop by to feed her faithful friend (dog) Annie. Turning into the drive, I stop and check her mailbox. I had been doing a lot of "self talk" on my way home and had just about convinced myself that possibly GOD isn't watching out for me like I thought HE should be.

Heading on up the driveway, I pull up to the house and notice Annie sitting in front of the garage, licking her leg. Fearful that something is wrong, I cram the car into park and jump out. Leaving behind, my keys, pocketbook and cell phone, not to mention a backseat full of groceries, including ice cream and butter. I quickly do a back step, with my hand over my eyes. Knowing that my car only sports one set of keys to it's name, I fear for the worse. As I peep inside, my fears are founded. The doors are locked. Here I am, a mile off the beaten path, wearing dress pumps and nursing a right knee from weedeating days prior, did not make my heart jump for joy. What to do. There was one last hope; my car happens to be equipped with an electronic key pad, however, it has been ages since it has worked properly. Knowing that I wasn't exactly batting a 1000 today, I figured "par for the course" would be my slogan. Just as I thought, it wouldn't budge the locks. With nothing else to do, like a captain leaving his ship, I take out walking. That had to have been the longest mile I have ever endured. With thoughts of hitchhiking if the neighbors were gone, I knocked on the door, luckily, they were there. What a Good Samaritan Ms. Brenda was for taking me home.

Entering the house, I see that my daughter still had mother out on an errand. This gave me a moment to call my husband and give him some more bad news of his wife's calamities, again. "Triple A" was called, and daughter Blythe arrived home with mother. Knowing that it should be time for her to use the facilities. I instruct mother to the bathroom and say goodbye to Blythe. I glance to the right and see my 83 year old mother getting ready to sit down about a foot short of the commode. Screaming out "MOTHER!" I sprint to rescue her, tossing both of us out into the shower below. Knowing that mother could be hurt, I jump up, rush to see if Blythe had pulled away yet and with my first luck of the day, see her just getting into her car. We hurry back in, and pull mother to safety. With no more than a bruise, she is fine.

The day finally comes to an end, with butter and ice cream a mere mushy mess. I remember the doubts I had earlier of GOD's faithful presence. My prayer has always been and will always be through this crazy "up and down" journey with my mother, is that I can serve HIM while serving her.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Scream V

It's the month of October when all kinds of spookiness is out and about. Trick or Treat'n for the kids, jack-o-lanterns on our front porches and eerie screams in the Edwards' household.

Time and time again, I have told you in my posts that I am a chicken of major proportions when it comes to scary things. Lately, I have screamed with high intensity more than I can ever remember in my life and my 83 year old mother is the culprit.

I am having trouble figuring out, just how can someone who creeps at a snails pace, make it into my body space within 5 seconds of my turning around without a rope being tied to my body and carrying her behind me.

I had just put mother down for a nap on her couch, when I decided I would hurry to the kitchen and prepare our supper. I had just made it in, bent down to grab a pan and felt the presence of someone. Knowing it couldn't possibly be mother, I slowly turned and low and behold there she stood with a "can I help you do something?" Dropping the pan to the floor, I let out a blood curdling scream that would wake anything, living or dead.

It was getting late in the evening and I decided to rush outside and do some needed weedeating. Since I would be just outside the window in mother's room, I told her to stay on the couch and watch me as I did the dreaded deed. As I made my way toward her window, I cast my eyes through the panes with hands to the glass. There before me were two big mother eyes, staring right back at me. Screaming so loud that everybody in the neighborhood could hear I nearly fell over backwards.

Entering mother's apartment early in the morning has taken on a new meaning lately. I jumped out of bed, ran down the stairs, gathered her pills in my kitchen and opened her door. Heading on in to open the blinds and do my usual routine before tapping gently on my sleeping mother's door, I paid no attention to my mother sitting quietly on her couch. As I raised my hand to knock, a voice called my name, "Jean, I'm here!" I turned to my right and there she sat with that all knowing grin. Once again, a blood curdling scream came out of my mouth with a jolt of adrenalin that would last me the rest of the day.

As I write this post, I have to say, it makes me smile to think that the one person who has chased away countless ghosts and goblins from a little girls nightmares, is the one thing that now makes her scream.