Life often intrudes on intentions.
It happened to me again today, so my focus on Dog Whistle Politics will continue another time. At the moment my mother is too much on my mind to write about anything else.
A broken hip is a serious injury for anyone. For someone 96 years old it can be life threatening.
It is no surprise, then, that her fall is a very big deal to our family. She is fighting hard to walk again, or just to be able to move from a bed to a chair, but other factors keep emerging that are making any quality recovery slow at best.
As I sat talking to her the other day, at times simply watching her in the sometimes long intervals of silence that happen in our conversations, I realized I was looking at the person who first taught me the meaning of unconditional love.
I also realized how huge that is.
It’s what good mothers do, of course, but not all do. But for those whose hearts are such that unconditional love comes to them naturally, they make the world better one child at a time.
That’s what my mother did, at times against great odds.
When we were young – and even not so young – my brothers and I disappointed her a lot, and maybe on occasion even broke her heart, yet there was not and never has been a moment when the three of us ever doubted she loved us and always would.
The long and short of our story is that we are the luckiest sons on earth.
Whatever unfolds in regard to her present circumstances, I know her days with us will be fewer than we have already enjoyed, and certainly fewer than we wish were possible.
So now I find myself not being able to ask her enough questions about our family history, or vague incidents needing clarification and explanation. Her mind is still as sharp as a pin. She remembers everything in detail, quickly able to correct my assumptions about something in the past or fill in the rest of the story I only know bits and pieces about.
There won’t be enough time to have all my questions answered, of course, but, then, that is not the real reason I am asking them anyway.
I just want to talk to her, to listen, to love her as a son grateful beyond measure, so that when the day I know is coming arrives, I will have made new memories with her to go with all the ones born of yesterday’s life together in our family.
Greatness is often attributed to those who live on the world’s stage, whose names appear in the news, and whose achievements are major.
But my mother’s good life reminds me that there is also a different kind of greatness that comes from quiet, selfless living that never gets in the news and can often be taken for granted, but without which the whole world would be diminished.
As I said, my brothers and I are the luckiest sons on earth.
I wish every son, and every daughter, could say the same thing.
linnposts.com 
Savor the moments… I am always wishing I had more time to talk with my momma… Peace,
Dixcy
Jan, I’m always grateful for your reflections on politics and faith, but I’m especially grateful for your reflections on your journey with your mother. When you tell of the love you share, your admiration of her and the coming awareness that life’s pages are turning too soon, I feel like my heart somehow already knows the tune. You’re fortunate to have each other. Thank you for saying it out loud.
May your mother and her three sons experience God’s abundance in the moment and in the journey ahead.
Love reading about you and your family. I also had a mother who gave unconditional love to her 4 children. I am sad that I was just 44 when my mom died, and I still had so much to learn. I know you are grateful that at 69, you still have her to talk/listen to.
Thank you for sharing these beautiful reflections. Blessings, peace, and strength that passes understanding to you, your mother, and your family.
So very touching, Jan! I, any of us reading your words, feel your loving relationship. Prayers to you, to her, to all of your family as your beloved mother recovers.
Jan, what a beautiful tribute to your mother. I could say “ditto” because I too had a mother like yours. Sadly, I have friends that never experienced the same. What a travesty! Mothers Day is difficult for them and their hurts run deep. Praying for your mother’s recovery and I can clue you in that no matter how long you have your mother or father-it is never enough!
A truly GREAT tribute. I only met your Mom very briefly a couple times, but it was easy to sense that I was in the presence of a real LADY when I did.
This is your finest post. I hope your Mom will get a chance to read it. If not, maybe you can read it to her – she will love it! Please know your Mother is in our prayers.
Jan: May Grace and Peace be abundant to you and family.
A part of me envies you, Jan. That your mother’s still in possession of a razor-sharp mind counts for a great deal. My Mum is still with us, and she’s in very good physical condition – her only problem is her loss of short term memory.
I think of all that we’ve been through down the years since my Dad died in 1985, especially since my heart trouble five years ago, when Mum visited me every day when I was in hospital, making sure I never lacked for clean clothes and everything I needed.
Me and my sister Gillian look forward to this November, when Mum reaches 90, and I’ll take some footage of her bending down to touch the floor! In the meantime, I’ll do my best to keep the laughter going…
Loved this. Thanks for sharing. I am happy to say that I’m incredibly grateful for my mom and for this story. Blessings to you both.