I don’t know how it got to be today.
How, after being home here for five months after my mother’s stroke, that I am packing up my things to return to NYC.
I’m going to be honest, I haven’t even made it through the socks and underwear yet, and I’ve already cried twice.
I was not expecting this. Returning to New York is supposed to be joyous. Full of celebratory anticipation. And yet, why do I feel my heart is shattering?
I was driving home from getting groceries today when an Audrey Assad song came on: Lead, Kindly Light. And one of the lyrics really stopped me in my tracks:
“Here in the dark, I do not ask to see.”
I rolled that over and over in my mind. And I realized, that’s just what I’ve been doing during my time here at home. Things were dark – I was more scared than I have ever been in my life – unsure as to the permanent toll the stroke was going to have on my mom. I was in the dark. And I realized, that I have not yet asked to see. I haven’t begged or pleaded with God to reveal what it is I’m supposed to learn – What the take away is from all of this. How things are going to turn out. I haven’t. I haven’t asked to see.
I’ve just been blindly trusting that God is going to lead me to where He wants me to go.
Going back to New York, my heart is not at rest. I don’t want to leave my mother. I don’t want to walk away from my family and leave behind this world where things are good, albeit, frightfully different. I know that they will be fine without me here, but what if I’m not.
My heart has changed. My mom’s stroke has changed who I am – what’s important to me. How I want to spend my time.
Maybe I’m just anticipating missing her. Thinking about leaving the comfort and security of my life in Ohio.
Perhaps I’m going to miss taking care of another person.
All I know is that I’m really having a hard time letting go.
And as I’ve walked around with this feeling in the pit of my stomach all day, I’ve begun to finally realize where it’s really coming from:
I’m afraid of hurting her.
My mom has been through so much. And is trying her very best to get used to this new state of normal after her stroke, and I know how much she cherishes having me around, and would love me to live here.
And I know that my leaving is going to add another layer of pain to her already burdened heart.
How can I do that to her?
It just breaks me down to think about.
And sitting on the edge of my bed, listening to my mother weep in the other room, while my own silent tears sear down my cheeks, I can’t help but feel I’m making a terrible mistake.
I feel I am betraying my mom, my family. Being uncaring and selfish for going back.
And probably that’s true.
And I guess, God, this is the first time I’m going to have to ask You to see.
Because I am at a loss for words, for thoughts, for direction. I need to know what to do. I’ve gone through this recovery with her with the motto that I’ll know I’m doing the right thing because God will give me peace.
And well, this unrest in my spirit is a big ol’ red flag.
And I know that her saying, “I’m gonna be fine,” is just brave talk from a loving mother.
Lord, help me to know what to do here. You know the love I have for this courageous woman, my lifeblood, my best friend. Show me where I’m supposed to be. What I’m supposed to do.
Here in the dark, I am finally asking to see.
I guess…to be continued…
@beauty.beyond.bones – Instagram
Thank you for considering supporting BBB on Patreon! You make this blog possible