Today I awoke with a start. My heart was racing so fast I thought it may pound out of my chest. In my nightmare my mom was completely disheveled sitting on a short stool in one of many tiny cubicles down a long corridor. I don’t know what happened next because just the sight of her in that state of utter hopelessness awakened me. I had to tell my heart to slow down reminding it that my mom is in a wonderful place where great care is taken of her every day.
Funny how the mind works, isn’t it? Yesterday I felt positively drawn to visit my mom unexpectedly by the words of a man at church. He related the gift given when his wife was present at the recent death of her mother as her mom breathed her last breaths just as a mom is obviously present when her child breaths her first breaths of life.
Well, that’s all it took. I was driving to see my mom. Upon entering her room she was dozing on her loveseat. She, too, had a dream. And she, too, called it a nightmare. She dreamt she had no home and no furniture which is both her nightmare and her truth. What do I say to that? “This is your new home, Mom,” for the 100th time sounds so very lame. It’s the truth but what a truth after such a life as my mom has lived. Then I waxed eloquently about the people, the care, the food – all very good. And my mom did agree.
But she is still sitting in one room most of the days of her life. I may have tried to fool myself dancing jigs about her quality of life but at night, in the dark when demons come, they found a listener.
I am so deep down sad yet I shove it inside me in the light of day. After I calmed myself this morning I turned on all the lights in each room I entered and left them on. I turned on my computer to see a forwarded message from a friend which described all the horrible fates which had befallen real people who had mocked God in their lives.
I don’t mock God. But do I do what He wants me to do? Do I share my story of God in my life? Do I reach out to others in cyberspace? Or do I fill my days choosing paint colors for the walls and reassembling my house? What I need to reassemble is my life. Why is it so easy to forget what we, as Catholics, are supposed to do? Because the devil makes it easy. He finds an “in” and burrows in so hard we may not realize he is there. He turned my head. I love choosing colors and curtains and furniture. I’ve waited 28 years to have a house like the one that is now materializing. But whatever happened to loving “talking” to you? Where did that love go? Why do the words seem to be so difficuly to pull out of my head to type?
God wants me to write. The devil doesn’t. God woke me up today. He wants me to tell my story, however humble, to any moms and others who will listen. So what if I have a husband who works from home making it very difficult to find quiet time to write. Who cares that my house needs further attention. When my laptop freezes up and the cursor just disappears I need more patience to wait out the hiccups sent to me by the evil one. I pray. Suddenly my cursor moves and I am typing again. I am a mom of four boys born five years apart. That person hasn’t curled up and died. Maybe she took a hiatus after her children grew up but she knows how to write, and she knows how to work, and she knows how to fit an awfully lot into one day.
I just have to prioritize. That’s the ticket! God doesn’t care what color my kitchen is or whether I ever get that dining room painted. But He does care about the women who yearn for more who click over to CatholicMom to find a kindred spirit. For some of you readers, I hope I can be that kindred spirit.
Remember that the devil loves a dark soul. If you feel darkness in your soul this week turn on some lights, open a window. Call a friend. Write to me. May God bless you in your daily round. I will be thinking of you.
Copyright 2011 Maureen Locher