How Much Longer, God?
How much longer am I going to have to do this? It’s going on 8 years. Mom eats and drinks very little. She’s bed-bound. She is awake 2 hours a day and sleeps 22. She remembers nothing of her past, barely knows what she’s doing in the moment, and starting to not know me.
Her eyesight is gone. Her mind is gone. She lives in a world of fog and dark shadows. Does she just go on until that one moment when the last little bit of energy in the battery drains out?
That one moment between doing everything for her to doing nothing? What will that feel like? Like someone pulled the rug out? A flood of sweet relief? Will I just be standing here shaking my head? Will I be angry for years lost? Will I be grateful for any second I have left?
I don’t know if I’ll have one year or ten. She’s 98! What if she lives like this for another year? She’s had many more years than I will ever have. Why do I have to give my last best to her worst?
What good is this ending for anyone at this point?
Mom is like a plant that is dying and I just keep watering it. I’ve given mom all the love I possibly can. What else am I supposed to learn here? What could possibly be left? I’ve given it my all.
Every minute I pour into someone who is slowly dying is another minute I am not pouring into my own life which is also slowly dwindling. I’ve passed the tipping point. Now there is a definite imbalance.
The more time goes by, the more I realize how precious it is, the more I want to be spending quality time in my own life. I get it God.
Don’t waste a minute. Love is all that matters. So please let me move on from this and go live that. I’m ready.