Freedom & Captives (A story about my mom)

I stepped outside the house to take my dads call. "now Sharon" He paused, "Don't be scared ,but your mom has had a stroke."

I sat myself down on the front grass during the hot Florida midday sun and pinched my eyes tightly as I held my breath and listened to every slow detail he shared.

"Id pulled into the drive way and your mother was standing on the front porch with her hands gently folded together." "Ronnie (my dad) something happened." She said almost embarrassed as if she had just bumped into the back of his car or something avoidable.

"I could tell right away" he told me." Ive seen many people who've had strokes before and your moms face was drooping down on her left side as she stood there, She said shed had a sharp headache along with dizziness and then she couldn't use her left arm hardly at all."

My dad has been a hospice Chaplin since I was a little kid. Hes an expert at communicating perfectly at the most challenging of times in peoples lives. I experienced that as he coached me through the situation. "Now her numbness may change. We wont know its full affects for several more days. Ill take her to the hospital and they'll do brain scans to tell us more of exactly what happened and where in her brain it took place. We are very blessed Sharon, often people don't survive strokes, or at best they are present, but never again with us in mind. Ill inform you as soon as I know more."

I layed all the way back onto the yard trying to decide how to feel. Do I feel scared? Sad? Grateful? I tried to take deep breaths as if I were gulping air to save my life. Finally I gave into all the what ifs that flooded my mind and I must have looked as though I was being electrocuted by my own yard. I remembered how fearfully my grandmother had looked at me in her hospital bed not knowing who I was, a moment I've chosen to forget. I feared the worst at the thought that my mother... MY MOM... the woman who brings you your life support in every way may never be the same. The woman I love most, gone in some ways forever.

"Jesus help. Help me decide now how you feel about what has happened!" I cried out needing to regain control, both in body and in spirit. "Sharon... do you see that tree over there?" Through watery eyes I saw the big oak across the street."Yes Lord. I see i.t" "I made that tree. With one word I spoke that tree and with one word I could make it move do you believe that?" I was breathing much deeper now as his peace started to rest upon me. "Yes Lord. I believe that's true." "Then how much more do I love your mother than you? I am able to do all things." He didn't say much or go into any personal depth, but I was so aware of his goodness, of his control in what seemed like a tragic event. It was such a sad and scary moment of 2014.

The brain scans that followed actually showed my mom had had 3 strokes, 1 of them being very very old, possibly from when she was a little girl. Days later I finally was able to speak to my mom on the phone. She sounded different. Tired. She was sleeping a lot, her brains way of trying to recover from the jolt. The nerves on her left side (arms,hand,fingers,face) remained numb for many months. She had the best attitude about it. "Apparently id had the strokes in my sleep doctors say, because I never even knew theyd happened. I guess if your gonna have a stroke that's the best way to do it." Shed say almost proud of herself as if it was her own clever idea. Dad was more honest with me than she was. Shes different hed say. In ways that don't really matter but different all the same. Time and days are hard for her to keep track of. She hangs the laundry in the closet with all the cloths facing right now instead of left. She folds my dress pants differently. He told me of changes that I  should expect. Her memory was affected although only slightly from what I can tell. She wont be able to drive anymore (legally you cant for 1 year after a stroke if ever again) she wont be able to watch your nephew alone anymore while you sister works (This the most difficult by far. Her first grandchild now 2) Its not safe. She may forget and leave something dangerous out or not be able to pick him up. You can expect your mom to struggle with depression .Of all the things id researched, depression was the common enemy among all survivors although depression was no stranger to my mom.My heart could have never imagined what she told me next.

"Mom" I said over the phone wishing I wasn't 16 hours away. "How has today been?" I brace myself for the sound of sadness at her lack of independence. To feel like your body no longer works for you and I could only imagine the frustration she must feel. "Sharon, I loved today." "Loved?" I repeated sure I had heard her wrong. "Yes. loved." She went on for a very long time, explaining the hard times shed been having for decades before the stroke. My mom had had a difficult childhood and one could say the same for the early part of her married life. Shed always suffered from depression. Its hard to explain in such few words but, she had so much bitterness .Life was full of regrets and hard times that life felt dull to her. My mom waited for the day when shed be with the Lord. She longed for it in a way that was... at many times in my life sad and hurtful to me. No one would ever say that she was a woman full of life. But today she was.

I listened for hours as she told me about every sunrise shed sat and watched from the front porch since the stroke."I watched the tulip's in the front yard today as they woke up and followed the sun. I felt the coolness kiss my face as it dipped behind a cloud. I felt my hair blow across my face as though I was being kissed and I thought of God. How he has been kind to me to help me forget." I could hardly believe what she was saying. "I think this stroke was one of the best things that's happened to me.( said with a very slight slur) I cant remember the bad stuff anymore." and when she said it she said it in a way that sounded like she was free. Free in some beautiful way id never seen or heard her be free before.

Sometimes the stroke shows its captives. She used to have the most beautiful penmanship. Now what little she does write or sign in a card looks as though my daughter wrote it. I looked through my old shoe box full of letters from her when I moved away and hold them tight to my chest. This lovely cursive is my mothers, and I treasure now more than ever that my own is almost identical to hers.

They visited us 2 Septembers ago to meet for the first time their only granddaughter. I saw the look of total embracement on her face as I placed my daughter in her arms and she looked at me full of tears and said "Im so sorry. I cant remember her name." I kneeled in front of her and said "Oh good- then ill get to see your face when you hear it for the first time. (a moment I would have never had over the phone)We named her Finley." "Finley" She muttered as she closed her eyes gently and moved her mouth as if tasting something rich and sweet, then opened them. "I love it."

I don't know that iver ever told anyone this story before.I find myself writing this now because my spirit is so desperate to testify of Gods goodness. Were all in times of having difficulty,hardship and not knowing the future and yet God never changes. Only God can take a woman who felt no life and give her life through something satan intended for evil. I am remembering so many times of Gods goodness and faithfulness and... well... I think perhaps for me personally, its just time I told some people.