Sunday morning. I’m at Dayle’s, sitting on the couch. She and Stan are at church. The house is quiet. A fire pushes back the chill. Hot coffee is nearby. Mother’s asleep in the recliner beside me. It’s been her preferred place to sleep since she broke her arm in October. Last night, we played a few rounds of dominoes. Even with only one good arm, she makes me work for every win I get, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
As I watch her sleeping, my heart aches a little. The last few years have taken a toll on her body. Three falls. Broken bones. Serious injuries that would have traumatized anyone of any age. Yet here she is, still reaching out to others, offering encouragement, and lifting loads wherever she can. Is it any wonder her very name means “compassionate friend”?
I don’t know what the future holds for Mother, but whatever comes her way, I know she’ll meet it with steadfastness and grace. I'm blessed and grateful to call her my mom.
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Proverbs 31:25-26 (NKJV) - "Strength and honor are her clothing; She shall rejoice in time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and on her tongue is the law of kindness."
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