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My Mother’s Heart

A strange thing is happening as I get older.

I look in the mirror each day and see less and less of the girl I was and more of the mother I’ve become. And it’s not just any mother that I’m becoming, but it is my own mother who I am beginning to look like both from the outside and the inside. Some days I look in the mirror and have to do a double-take, swearing that it was my mother’s face I saw as I walked by.

It’s bizarre. And humbling. And it’s oddly calming.

My Mother’s Heart

My mother’s heart was operated on this week. She has afib, or hopefully, had afib after this surgery to correct it was done. She’s a strong, stubborn woman who has battled kidney cancer and triumphed. She’s a kind-hearted, do-anything-for-a-friend woman who organizes events and writes letters to friends’ mothers and who would gladly give you the shirt off her back to help you. She’s a jokester and quick witted enough to keep up with my father’s unique brand of never-ending humor. She’s a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a sister, and a best friend. Her heart is simply filled with too much love to be able to handle itself and the afib attacks led to some serious complications the past fall.

So they operated.

The prognosis is good, Praise God, and the outcome should be a complete healing, but she’s struggling now to overcome the effects of the anesthesia. Another night in the hospital, another night waiting for this new beginning to start. And so my heart aches for hers tonight. Thankful that she’s going to be okay, but understanding that her plans did not include another night in the city or my father driving in the snow to and from the hospital. Waiting, when you have spirit, is hard to do.

So, tonight I will pray for my mother’s heart and be thankful that my own is becoming more like hers everyday.

Love you, Mom!

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