I had the oddest of experiences. Upon awakening yesterday, there was a weak knock at my door. My poor mother was in terrible health needing to go to the emergency room. I will admit I spent most of the day yesterday in tears, but that was because I felt the grip of mortality and my mother welcoming death.
I love my mother. No one has been there for me like she has. In my darkest of places she was always the brightest of lights always trying to take care of me. It was when we see a proud maternal figure become and weak and broken is when we break down ourselves. It hit me after spending already 5 hours in the Emergency Room, that I wasn’t cut out for this. I had endured hardship in my teens when my Dad suffered multiple heart attacks. But now my mom? I went to eat something in the Hospital Cafeteria and came back to my mom’s room. There was a curtain pulled across her bed and the door was closed. I opened it and all I could hear was shallow breathing and the dreadful beeping of a heart monitor. As I pulled the curtain back I saw my mother there weak and fragile, laid out on the hospital bed.
It was at this moment, that I chose to pray. I didn’t disturb her rest, I pulled up a chair at the foot of her bed, put my hands together and prayed. I hadn’t spoken to God in a very long time, as I had been struggling with my spirituality due to being Bipolar and drugged up on meds, and I thought I lost His Voice. There, among the low beeping of the heart monitor and the eerie silence with just her shallow breathing, I cried as I prayed. The tears just came as I became painfully aware of this mortal life we live.
My mom is in terrible shape. This is her second time we went to the Emergency Room in two weeks and there is nothing they can find wrong with her, yet she is extremely frail and very weak and shaky. She has terrible tremors and has panic attacks and they say there is nothing wrong with her? I have never seen my mother so broken. I don’t know, maybe the answers lie elsewhere.
I spent most of the night in tears as my best friend and my friend from the UK comforted me by phone. I was in a state of despair where I realized there might be a good chance I could lose my mom. She is a strong woman my wonderful suitor told me last night, “I will be here to hold your hand and comfort you.” There is nothing like realizing that you might be falling in love with someone when they give you their utmost concern and care in your desperate time of need.
As I become aware of time, I realize that 38 is just around the corner for me and 40 is approaching fast. I have done nothing with my life and I let bipolar conquer me. I am totally dependent on my parents at this age, and it something that I am horribly not proud of. I spent most of my life as an independent working woman, and I watched the illness of bipolar rob me of all my money, my jobs, my boyfriends and almost even my life. I will say also, that even though medication is a miracle for most people with bipolar it’s slowly killing us too. It is breaking down our organs as we get older, and as I watch my mom and dad die slowly deteriorating, I am fully aware that being on these powerful drugs I will not be too far behind, or I may even get there sooner.
It’s a scary realization when you are faced with illness and death, and although some people are in very desperate places in their mind in which they are suicidal, actual death is dark, lonely and incredibly terrifying. I used to welcome it, as a restful peace to my chaotic mind. As I come closer to it though, and I watch others around me approach it, I am painfully aware of the shortness of my own mortality.
Where I once had all the time in the world, now I fear I don’t have enough.
Please say a prayer for my mom if you are reading, if God doesn’t hear my voice anymore I am sure He will hear yours.