acceptance

My Mom has always had the softest hands in the world despite having been a cleaning lady a good chunk of her adult life. She always said it was her consistent application of hand cream. The other day I brought her some and put a dab on her hands. A second later she had scooped it up with her tongue... a surprising and new experience for my Dad and I.

We laughed as I tried to wipe the cream off her tongue before she swallowed...and gave her a drink of milk. She did not show any signs of the taste being unpleasant...but the fact that she showed it to me makes me think some part of her knew it wasn't something she was meant to do. Mischievous? Perhaps. All I know is that there was joy between us and no harm done.

As I related this story to some friends I noticed their strained smile, some sadness in their eyes. I realize that I'm not there right now. I seem to be experiencing this thing called 'acceptance', understanding a bit more what that means and what it feels like. It truly does make the painful aspect of whatever is going on just a little bit easier.

I'm sure my grieving for the Mom I once knew will come again, a different level of loss each time. But right now I am content that we are finding ways to enjoy each other, living in the moment. I try to find ways to meet her where I think she is at...bringing coloured markers, sweet treats, and games like a Barrel of Monkey's. Some things seem to connect for her more than others but it's been fun trying to imagine what she would enjoy.

May this ability to live with what is follow me into some other painful areas of my life. I suspect peace is waiting for me there.