When my children were small, I was always envious of other mothers who told me of their “easy” babies. Their babies slept through the night at four weeks, hardly ever cried and were content, happy toddlers. By comparison, my babies were not easy. They needed to be held constantly, were always hungry, and required a lot of attention. I remember reminding myself during those exhausting, early weeks over and over: this is only a season. This, too, will pass.
I had many precious friends who supported me during that season. Their children were older and they often told me, “the nights are long, but the years are short.” I knew that to be true just from watching my precious nieces and nephews growing older too fast! There were many, many long nights during those early years with my children. There were nights I wished I could run away for a while then return to that exact moment. I just needed a little break, but young parents seldom get to run away for long.
Now, I would gladly return to one of those forever nights with my little ones. I miss snuggles and the sweet baby smell. I would even return to one of the really hard nights of tummy troubles, earaches, or temper tantrums. It would be wonderful to love on those precious little bodies and clean up their messes. Even as I was living during that season, I was counting down the moments. I knew that once a childhood passage was completed, we wouldn’t pass that way again. I often wondered if this would be the last time I carried one on my back or the last time I would tie shoelaces. On one hand, I was thrilled to see a new skill learned and another step towards independence. On the other, I hated that they wouldn’t need me for that anymore and they had taken another step toward self-sufficiency.
These last few years with Mom have been like raising a child in reverse. Many skills Mom lost gradually. Others were lost in a moment of injury. Her mind has slipped away little by little, day by day, almost imperceptibly. Sometimes, the fog lifts and she’ll be very aware. Other times, she’ll be lost and confused and she suffers like a little child taken from their mother. At those times, she’s not easily consoled. Although I long to comfort her as I would my children when they were small, she knows I’m not her mother, father, sister, or brother and only they will do. Thankfully, Dad can still reach her and she’ll allow him to hold and comfort her.
As I have mentioned before, caring for Mom is like having an easy child most of the time. She’s usually quite content. Even when she’s hungry, she is very patient while her meal is being prepared. If she’s cold, she’ll just say so in a sweet, pitiful voice. A few blankets later, she’s appreciative and snuggled in warmly. I’m trying to hold on to those sweet, precious moments with her, embracing her tender, fragile frame and inhaling her fragrance.
Time marches on. Just as certainly as my children and those other “easy” babies grew into toddlers, adolescents, and young adults who are completely independent, there will someday be a day when this easy time with Mom is gone. If God sees fit to extend her life, there may be a day when she’s completely dependent on us for everything. I am filled with the same mixed emotions I had when the kids were little – missing the past, but knowing the future holds wonderful possibility. One day, Mom will have her new body and she will really have it easy, resting in her Savior’s arms.
