After three years of keeping cancer at bay, the growth of leukemia cells in my mom’s body began to increase rapidly. When an infection took hold too, my mom was admitted to the hospital. I flew from Arizona to New Jersey to be with her.
Whenever I recall a particular walk with her, I see her wearing her favorite pink sweater. I can almost feel her hand and arm resting on my arm for support. With her right hand she pushed her IV pole. Slowly, with small steps, we made our way around the corridor, pausing at each room. When a patient made eye contact, my mom smiled and said, “Hello.” At the doorway of each sleeping patient, she let go of the IV pole and offered a little sign-of-the-cross blessing with her hand.
At the nurses’ station, Mom stopped and thanked everyone for their care. Upon returning to her room, I helped my mom back into bed. As her head touched the pillow, she was asleep.
Sinking into the comfortable lounger next to Mom’s bed, I noticed the soft rays of September sunlight cascading across her body. Through the opened window, I heard the laughter of children and the drone of a distant lawn mower. I breathed in the fragrance of fresh cut grass. Somehow, despite my mother nearing death, everything seemed right and beautiful in the world.
Instead of opening the book in my lap and reading to pass the time, I simply sat in what felt like a sacred moment.
Suddenly, in that state of peace, I heard in my body: What you do with your time and talent is critically important. Pay attention. And I knew that meant that Someday had arrived for me and that those guiding words are true for you, for everyone.
Might your Someday be now?
More to come.
With love,
Charlene
