Spring is one of my favorite seasons, a time of blessing.  I’ve spent hours watching the birds scurry around to build nests and hunt worms. The world seems to awaken overnight; animals attack every new blade of tender grass as we would a plate of chocolates. It’s a happy time, a great reminder of God’s everlasting care for His creation.

Even the splendor of spring can’t hide our pain!

I recall a particular spring day when my thoughts were not so favorable:
“Little Robin with your head held so high, do you know my heart is breaking? You strut proudly and sing … chirping along, grabbing a bug to eat as you go. I’m almost mad at you for being so happy! Doesn’t the whole world need to stop and feel my pain … Some would say you’re here to cheer me up. Well, sorry little birdie, it’s not working!”

Feeling overwhelmed as a caregiver, mother, friend, is inevitable.

I had been watching Mother lay in a hospital bed for days, wondering each day if it would be her last breath. Her window opened to beautiful, flower laden lawns filled with cheerful little robins. My feelings stormed inside; I wanted to chase the birds away, to cry, to scream, to do something to let the world know my heart was breaking inside. Making it doubly hard was memories of Mother and I often rejoicing together at God’s creation and enjoying the beautiful robins at play.

There is help and there is hope.

There are times when we all feel overwhelmed with circumstances around us. I deal with some of those thoughts in My Mother My Child  in the chapter called “Going Home”. It was difficult to live through; hard to write, but important to share.

One of the greatest helps I have found is simply a listening ear. I hope you have someone you trust to share your feelings with. When I cared for Mother, I often felt so alone. I did not realize so much of what was happening with her was a natural part of aging, and yes, of dying. If you care for anyone at all, find some support; you need it and so do those in your care.

Psalm 40:1 says it best: “I waited patiently for God to help me; then he listened and heard my cry.”

Hugs,

My Mother My Child will make a thoughtful gift book for all ages. I am grateful for  testimonies from young and older who have been helped and encouraged.