I Sang to Her
It was the day after her colon cancer surgery. She was in pain, tired, anxious, out of sorts from being out of her home of over 30 plus years, and she was worried about her son who had been hospitalized across town the night before her own surgery.
In that moment, I saw her frailty. I saw her humanness, her vulnerability. I saw her childlike fear that I have always refused to accept to see as she has aged. I saw her mortality.
This strong and tough woman I had always known to be so energetic and hardworking, the matriarch of our family was “different.” The one who held us together since my Father’s passing 28 years ago was now looking to us, her children, for security, protection, guidance, caring, comfort, attention, holding, and love.
We consider it pure honor and joy and one of the blessings in life to be able to be here now for our Mother in this capacity, but I must confess it is not easy to see your parent in such a way. I know our Mom isn’t perfect, and I know we aren’t the only ones to have a good Mom, but our relationship with her is as unique to us as it is with anyone else to their Mother, and in this moment in time, my experience with her is one that I will hold in my heart until I take my last breath.
My 82-year-old Mother, whose hands held mine while I learned to walk on my own, whose hands clung tightly to mine as I did everything in my power to push her away in those teenage years, whose hands held mine tenderly and gently in prayer as my heart was broken many times throughout my life, now needed my hands to hold her and comfort her heart.
It struck me how frail and fragile those strong, strong hands have become.
Where have the years gone?
I remember those hands as strong, thick, and tight skinned. I remember her hands as mine are now in my 50’s. How did she get to 82 Lord? I know it’s a blessing, but where did those years go. I had to fight back my own tears in this moment, for it was her turn to be frail and weak.
This moment wasn’t about me. It was ALL hers.
And she wept.
A weeping I have never known from this rock. In my arms her hurting and scared heart opened wide, and I had the opportunity to comfort my precious Mother. God blessed me in that moment, flooding my memory with ALL the times throughout my life that she would sing to me to comfort me, and to my sons when they were young.
So, I began to rub her forehead and sing. I sang “In the Garden.” This was her Mother’s favorite hymn and had always been special to her as well. In those precious moments I felt the unbreakable bond between us and I felt the connection of our hearts, and somehow, God granted me the wherewithal to hold it together and sing the entire song.
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses
And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am his own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known
He speaks and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing
And the melody that He gave to me
Within my heart is ringing
And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am his own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known
(C. Austin Miles)
In those moments, I got to be strong for the woman who had always been so strong for us.
It was the most precious & beautiful moment. I regret not having had that same opportunity with our Dad as he was taken suddenly and unexpectedly, but oh how blessed I was to have this moment in time with Mom, for while she has been in the audience many times while I sang and performed, hands strong, clapping proudly, this time I sang only to her, only for her, and I will treasure that memory as long as I live.
"Time is free, but it's priceless. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can't keep it, but you can spend it. Once you've lost it you can never get it back."
Harvey Mackay
