Friday, 12 December 2014

Modern Day Samaritan Woman

Finding beauty in the hazy fog of forgetfulness and age!!

I arrived home from work yesterday and stood for some time at my dining room window watching my mother outside in the garden. She had apparently spent most of the day outside fussing with the plants and the animals and hardly noticed the hours slip by.
Watching her, I couldn’t help but wonder “who is this lady and what has she done with my mother”.


As I watched the woman who nurtured and disciplined me, the woman who taught me so many things, I could hardly begin to try and list them; I realized that I painfully “missed my mom”.

She is here with me, yet she is also so far away that she is barely reachable. The lady who shaped my faith, now tests it that same faith to the very extreme.

I keep searching for the beauty of the moment, the memory that will be saved for the future, the smile or laugh that I will remember…

but for the most part I live on edge, walk on eggs, waiting for the next bout of aggression and conflict. Conflict that can be triggered by anything random and inexplicable. One moment there will be peace and contentment and the next moment the tiniest comment, action or lack of immediate action can provoke an unexplained rage that targets anyone and everyone and can last for days on end.

When this happens the entire household avoids her and attempts to stay out of her way. This tends to be a very difficult thing to do, as she is not easily avoided. She tracks you down, searches you out and then just continues ranting where she left off. No soft answer turns away her wrath. She will settle for nothing less than the “head of the person” she has perceived to have done her harm.

Consequently, in the end I (as the daughter) have to step in and confront her.  I have to protect the family and demand that she stop abusing everyone and behave herself.
When this happens she packs up her bags and announces to all and sundry that she is leaving and departs to my brother’s home for a time.

And so the cycle continues until the story repeats itself at his house, whereupon she packs up her bags and returns to my house.

I spend hours trying to understand what has happened, search the internet for some clue, assistance, advice, anything at all, while fearing that the same will be my lot in old age. I miss her so very much and I realize so keenly that the time is so short. 

There is no time for all the conflict and aggression. Maybe it is already too late and the time for meaningful communion with one another is passed forever.

I pray that she has not forgotten her faith and her saviour. I pray that her sermons are real and not just repeated parrot fashion and that she hasn't lost touch with the one and only “person” that can be with her in this strange new place she has reached. None of us can go there because we don’t know where “there is”....

In the meantime I will keep on searching for the beauty, the smile, the laugh, the brief glimpse of the mom I knew, and the wonderful memories that will carry us through the days when she is no longer with us. I have no answers, very little hope for change and no new ideas, but I will keep trying to get through.

She is my “mom” and I love her so despite not understanding what has happened I will be there. I will stand as silent witness to the person I used to know, the person locked inside that tiny frame, perhaps locked away forever and overshadowed by this new unfamiliar stranger.

Ecclesiastes 12:2-5

Honor and enjoy your Creator while you’re still young,
Before the years take their toll and your vigour wanes,
Before your vision dims and the world blurs
And the winter years keep you close to the fire.
In old age, your body no longer serves you so well.
Muscles slacken, grip weakens, joints stiffen.
The shades are pulled down on the world.
You can’t come and go at will. Things grind to a halt.
The hum of the household fades away.
You are wakened now by bird-song.
Hikes to the mountains are a thing of the past.
Even a stroll down the road has its terrors.
Your hair turns apple-blossom white,
Adorning a fragile and impotent matchstick body.

Yes, you’re well on your way to eternal rest,
While your friends make plans for your funeral.
The Message (MSG)

*Hugs* till next time.


AriƩte