On Trust, Patience and Being With Mom

Zinnia bud from our garden, August 2009

My mom is now more stable than when the doctor called. I was with her this morning, and she was resting peacefully under sedation and breathing with the support of the ventilator. Her lungs, though more congested than they've been in a while, showed some improvement over yesterday.

One of the lessons I'm taking from the panic and flurry of emotions I felt in the wee hours of Friday morning when the doctor called is to continue to just trust the journey and know there is love around my mom, me and all of us every step of the way.

I am committed to trusting in life this way, but it can be hard for me sometimes as I so want certainty and answers on my mom's healing.

But there are no certain answers right now on how long it will take for her to heal, when she will be awake again, whether she will soon be better or if it will be her time to pass on.

What I can be certain about is this: trusting life, trusting in love and trusting that we are never alone on our journey.

I thought of this picture I took in my garden a couple of weeks ago of this zinnia about to bloom.

There is mystery for me in this picture, but certainty, too. For I know that there will be a bloom. I just don't know when.

So it is with my mom.

I trust that for her, for me, for our family and friends that there is the gift of a gorgeous bloom in all this. I just need patience and presence to witness it.

Thank you all for the love and support. I felt it, and these tangible reminders mean so very much.