Friday, October 12, 2012

Little moments...

I am thankful for the little moments we were able to share.

I have had this moment on my mind since March.  And I haven't really shared it with many people.  But this moment is one I will absolutely never forget and has gotten me through so much.  This moment of tenderness and covenant between my mother and I.  One that I didn't fully understand at the time, but how can one really fully know in the teensy tiny moments?

I sat on the side of the hospital bed.  We were having a moment.  A breakdown of sorts.  My mother was not a crier, so when she did, it was big.  She was weepy, but she was beyond entitled to be so.  It had only been a few days since a surgeon had opened her skull, for goodness sake, so she was allowed to cry.  And as soon as she started, I started, too.  I, unlike her, am quite the crier, and I had indulged in weeping more times than I could count since the moment we discovered there was a massive tumor in her head.

I sat on the side of the bed with a box of tissues, using some for myself and passing her some to use.  We cried.  It was more like weeping if I am completely honest.  And then she took her hand and ran it through my hair which was spilling over in front of her.  My hair had officially reached the long stage since I had decided to grow it out the year before, and she thought it was gorgeous.  She ran her hand through the long brown locks, and I said something out loud that I had been pondering in my mind for a few weeks.

"I am thinking about getting it cut on your birthday.  What do you think about that?"

The crying that had settled down started back up again.

"I didn't mean to make you cry again..."

We wiped our eyes and faces some more, and then she said, "I think that's a good idea."

And that's where it was settled in my mind.  That's what I would do.  I would have my hair cut on October 25, 2012, my mother's 66th birthday.  In that little moment, I didn't know my mother would not be alive.  I kinda thought it in the crevices of my heart, but it wasn't something I had allowed myself to fully explore.

So here I am.  October of 2012.  And I can't tell you how many times that little moment has replayed on the big white screen of my mind.  Of her hands, still warm and full of pumping blood, running through this hair that will someday be on a stranger's head.  Nothing gives me more joy than to know that what she has touched will bring someone who has lost their hair a smile.

There are so many little moments from those final days that I hold onto.  Some I won't share here.  Those I will keep only for myself.  But I cling to them.  They are precious gifts.  From God.  From her. The little moments.

Thank you, Lord, for all the little moments we shared.

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