Jiggety Jig

Whenever my mom is out and about (which isn't often) she texts me: jiggety jig once she is home. She also texts me a "I am awake" text every single morning. Well, yesterday around 1 was the best "Jiggety Jig" text I have ever had.
After 8 long days. 8 days filled with fear, strength, tears, and the great unknown...my mom came home. Our fight is far from over. We need her to get stronger, her body to absorb iron, her asthma to get under control, her immune system to be able to fight off the common cold that tries to take her down. But she is home.
And I wanted to take the time this morning to truly thank all of my family and friends for calling, emailing, texting, and just checking in with me daily. You know your mom is a special woman when I get at least 5 calls a day asking for an update. It gave me a sense of strength to know that I have women that stretch across generations starting at 4 years old and going all the way to 60 who love me and my mom and take the time to show me they care.
Kate, my daughter was perhaps the biggest help. She could spot sadness in my eyes and would stop playing and give me a long and much needed hug. I reached out to a friend who recently lost her mom and we connected. I answered my phone every time it rung (nothing short of a miracle) and it felt good to explain what was going on....share my fears and hopes.
And of course Adam was there the whole time.
I bet hundreds of texts went back and forth between my siblings. Sharing good Hgb test scores, being there for each other when the numbers dropped. Explaining blood transfusions, sharing how mom seemed....it is vital to have my siblings and dad in times where I am not texting/calling my mom.
See...I get texts each morning as soon as she wakes...we share how our nights were. I tell her funny or frustrating stories. Throughout the day I call and text....sometimes to complain, but mostly to share in the delight of my children.
And it was a long 8 days without those texts. So thanks to my friends, siblings and dad for filling in the void this past week.
And here's to hoping 2013 is not filled with as many trips to the hospital via ambulance, nor long stays in the hospital with unknown medical issues.
Here's to hoping it is full of strength and health.

It is with a heavy heart and watery eyes that I open my computer. It also amazes me the degree of pain, fear, and love one little being can feel. From the time I was younger than Kate I knew that this life was too much for me. I knew that the degree of love I felt for those around me was unreal. I remember sitting in a rocking chair sobbing alone at the realization that because my parents were older than me they most likely would die before me. Now 30 years later this thought haunts me and brings me more sadness than you can imagine. Whether it happens tomorrow or in 50 more years the pain feels so real and so raw and so deep it is hard to function.
I am not sure if there is a human on this earth than knows and loves me like my mom does. My dad too. I have watched my mom struggle and survive, struggle and survive for years. Her medical issues seem to get more and more complicated with each season each year. How can someone so incredible strong emotionally be so weak physically. Most people in her situation would be bitter, negative, and hard to be around. My mother embodies everything you would ever want in a mother, wife, friend. She checks in with me daily about my life, and the happenings of my children. Her world is made up of her children and grandchildren. She is funny, smart, genuine, giving, accepting and truly lights up the room. She has this wonderful gift of being able to truly listen, advise, and accept everything around her. Everyday I strive to grow stronger, kinder, and a better woman so that when the time comes I will be able to step into her role as the matriarch of this family unit we are so incredibly lucky to have. I am not there. Not even close.
I need her. Charlie needs her. You would not believe the relationship they share. I have honestly seen nothing like it. In his darkest moments and happiest moments his first thought is his "mama". He has called her to calm down amidst fights with us, and writes endless pictures and notes to her. She is his biggest fan...hands down. Every time she gets sick I see something change in him. And my already scared and weakened spirit can hardly take the look in his eyes when he asks, "Does mama have to die?"
My mother is the strongest person I have ever met, and no doubt will be the strongest person I will ever know. She will pull through this illness like she has time and time again. I know she will. She will teach us how to be strong, cherish what matters, and make the most of our health. She will continue to teach us how to speak our minds, accept our challenges, and love ourselves through our most challenging times. She will continue to teach me how to love my children through their harder times, she will continue to listen to my five million emotions daily.
And each time she struggles. Every race to the hospital. Each time I can hardly talk to her on the phone because her voice is so weak....each time I will be filled with more sorrow that should be allowed. At the fear. I am so strong. My body can lift weights, run, spin, dance...my bones are strong. My lungs are strong. My immune system healthy. I wish I could give my health to her. Because she needs it. And I need her to have it.
I believe she can get there. She has the drive, the family, the friends, the motivation to become healthier. I am constantly in awe of the love she shares with my dad. The love all of us share between each other. The way us siblings love and support each other. The way my dad cares for her through everything. The way she finds the strength, time, and energy to send me messages asking about me and my kids...when she is fighting for her life.
I love you mom....and once again I miss you.
Come home soon. My heart can only stand so much before I find it hard to get through my days.