Please God. Hear My Prayer.

My mom died a couple of years ago. Well, at least the essence of my mom died then. The mom that was caring, nurturing, funny, and wickedly sarcastic was gone. She would reappear occasionally, but never in full form.

Mom grew up during the depression and as the oldest daughter, she took care of the housework while my grandmother worked, she began this at an early age and worked hard her entire life.
Mom's family was dirt poor. Her dad was an alcoholic and he cheated on my grandmother. Mom was widowed when she was 26  and had two young children to care for at the time. She lost one of those children, my brother when she was 50 and was widowed again when she was 76. She was a tough old bird!

Mom and I were more like friends than mother-daughter. We enjoyed going shopping  and going to lunch together often. She was there when I needed her, oftentimes even before I knew I needed her. I sometimes only needed to hear her voice and I felt better. I needed her badly in July 2015 when Paul was having quadruple bypass surgery. I needed her to hug me and tell me that it was  going to be OK but when I told her about the surgery she wasn't there. She couldn't comprehend what I was telling her. She would have reacted similarly if I told her that Paul was getting a hair cut.

I needed her when my mother-in-law was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I needed her to hug me, even though I knew this one wasn't going to be OK. When Ruby died, I told my mom, showed her the obituary, and she didn't recognize Ruby at all. Ruby was someone she loved and admired but she was now a stranger.  So was my mom.

I need my Mom so much right now. I need her to hug me and tell me that it's going to be OK and that she's not afraid and she's ready to reunite with her loved ones again.

My mom needs me now. She needs me to hug her and tell her it's OK to go. She needs me to say that she's taught me about being strong and that I can handle it and that I will OK. She needs me to release her into the arms of God because beyond the veil my dad is waiting with that sweet gap-toothed smile to take her into his arms again. He's waiting for her to be young, happy, nurturing, caring, and wickedly sarcastic again. I want so badly to let her go, and yet I want to cling to her with all of my strength, even if it's not really her.

What more can she do? What more can be taken from her? Why must she "exist" when she can't "live?" The happiness, the laughter, the sarcasm, the nurturing, caring, all of it is gone. I ask again, what more can be taken from her? Dignity? It's gone. Dear God, what are you waiting for, why not welcome her into your Kingdom, take the emptiness and fill her with your love. Restore her here on earth or restore her in heaven but please God, restore her.  I want my mom to be whole and happy again. As much as I want her here with me, I want her with you more. Please God, hear my plea.


"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." (Luke 22:42)

He restores my soul: he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. (Psalm 23:3)