Mom’s Touch

What is it about moms and their healing powers? My mom was known for her rocking chair. She would rock sun up to sun down, listening to her gospel music. If you’re sick, climb in Moma’s lap. If you need a hug, climb in Moma’s lap. If you’re sad, climb in Moma’s lap. She just had this magical touch that made your worst day better. God has a way of choosing the right parent for you. When he picked Moma to be mine, He sure gave me the best.

Until I outweighed my mom in adulthood, she would always let me curl up in her lap. She would laugh and say she didn’t remember all the hangover before, referring to my legs hanging off the chair. Right now I could sure use my mom’s lap.

My oldest brother, Jim, who has throat cancer, was just delivered the difficult news he is now Stage IV. The doctor’s exact words, “You are incurable. ” She delivered his death sentence if he chose no treatment. (Well..that stung a bit). She hopes to try immunotherapy to extend his life with quality. It is all about the quality, not the quantity.

When we are born, we automatically have a death sentence. We never know when. My grandpa was five days short of a 100 so his death sentence was a long one. When I lost my brother, Chubs, his death sentence was only at age 38. We just don’t know, and especially, don’t want to be told our death sentence. Jim was pretty much given his at his appointment.

I admire Jim’s perseverance through adversity. He’s always smiling. Even with the most recent news and the obvious death sentence, he’s still smiling. Jim and I sat and talked for hours yesterday. We laughed when he talked about his dying day. I said I was going to put a wager on what day it will be. When Chubs died, there was heavy snow and ice. When my mom died, it was THE hottest day of the year. Can it be a temperature neutral day? Is that too much to ask?! I’m sure many would balk at our conversations with our obvious sarcastic humor. You have to find humor in challenging times. It’s the humor that pulls me through. During the conversation, Jim told me more than once to be his voice. I’ll do my best! (I do have big mouth…that’s for sure)

I told Jim we should play the “Hokey Pokey” at the funeral. He thought it would get the crowd involved. “YMCA” wouldn’t be bad either. hahaha

I pray immunotherapy treatments help extend Jim’s life to enjoy the things he’s never done. Cherish those moments because I say all the time that moments are memories. Even with Jim’s strength, I would bet he would want to crawl in Moma’s lap and make it all better. I know I would like to right now.

Until then, peace out, trout!

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