Mom and Things

Mom seems quite diminished since our last visit to Colorado. While my sister Maryanne and her hub Bob were here Mom got a touch of the flu. In addition, all three of them got involved in a minor car accident. Both of those things took their toll on Mom. She sleeps almost all of the time now. Her eyes look sunken and dark. She says much less. She has perked up a little since our arrival but it is hard to say if her present condition is temporary or a more permanent downturn. I keep studying her face, trying to read what is going on inside of her. She continues to say "I"m fine", when asked. How I hate to see her slide slowly down. Inside her body prison she is still the vibrant, amazing person she was. But it is hard to see now. She is mostly hidden away.

This place continues to offer its magical variety of wind and calm, sunny and cloudy exchanges in each day and occasional rain. As I sit on Mom's deck I look out on a lovely green pasture filled with grazing cows and all sorts of other life forms. An American flag peeks through the trees from a neighbor's yard. The sky is mostly cloudy with some potential rain collecting in some of them. Other parts of the sky offer sunshine on this Sunday evening. There is a soft wind blowing through my hair and the trees above me. All is peaceful here.

Here you see the side of Mom's house from the road.

In spite of all this peacefulness, I am finding it difficult to stick to just one project. I have a list of things I want to accomplish while enjoying this undemanding place. But my old habit of starting lots of things and finishing few hangs over me. What should I do first: sort some of Mom's accumulation of stuff (which badly needs to be done), finish Daddy's story, sort Mom's pictures and organize them, prepare for the arrival of 7-9 grandchildren next week, work on my pastel drawings? All call to me. Why can't I just settle down and get each done in some sort of order? Why am I such a chaotic thinker? Why do my ideas far outpace my performance?

I suppose that life will always have many mysteries. I am grateful for the piece of it that God has given me.