My mom, who is 71, had a stroke while we were camping in the N. Ga. mountains. My time here at their home has suddenly extended itself. But she’s walking, talking and functioning fine enough. A slight wobble in her gait. We’re waiting for doctors to rule out any further risk beyond the typical post-stroke risk. It started as a disturbance in her vision much like a pre-migraine. I know it well myself. But this got worse and stayed. And this was apparently when the stroke occurred. In the visual cortex. Her vision is all fragmented and flashing neon brightness. It exhausts her. Her question: Is this permanent? Doc’s response: The brain has an amazing capacity to heal itself. She and all of us here are in shock. This is a go-getter woman. Tough. Takes good care of herself. Both her parents died suddenly and horribly of heart disease undetected. She’s made sure not to let that happen, surpassing their longevity by many years already.
This has been, in spite of it all, a healing time for us. When you run out of the hills of Georgia and fast to the seemingly greener hillsides of North Carolina, you leave a bit of a track, a wake. That’s especially true for me since I left in total frustration with life and with my history. I was none too sure of my religion or. Or. Looking at old photos last night it struck me, once again, how much has changed. I was a shadow of who I am now when I left here. My mom has only recently begun to recover from the whiplash of such a stark change. How does she talk to me about Jesus anymore when she knows I’m just not there now? It’s not easy but she respects where I am, grieves it some. And she was never the type of person I could hide such changes from, ever. We’ve hobbled along, testing and re-testing our relationship these past 5 years especially. It’s been a study in courage for both of us.
So, holding hands, providing Reiki, laughing, filling out her forms for her…as sorry as we all are that it has had to be like this, I know she felt the deeper healing as much as I did. We’ve spoken openly about the hurts between us, found peace together. You can’t ask for more than that. No, actually you can. You can ask for a couple more decades of restoring what can never be destroyed. That’s all I ask.
On with it…