I saw my mother naked this morning for the first time ever in my life as I dressed her for her trip to the hospital for her first round of chemotherapy. She joked about no longer needing a bra as I gently put her arms through a lovely V-Neck blouse colored in a light blue/ pink pastel pattern, then lifted her legs and bent them politely at her knees and slid them into a capri-esque looking, black knit pair of pants with an elastic waist. At 78 years old, her body frail, skin blotted and sagging, and having grown up in a repressed era, she was completely at ease and it occurred to me that I find her more beautiful today, in these quiet moments dotted with some sadness, then I have through all the years past. Her smile continues to light up the room and her southern drawl, though weakened by shortness of breath, still melts me when I hear her call me "Edward." I can close my eyes and remember in an instant, all those summer days of my youth when I would hear that same lovely, lilting voice calling me in for supper...Someone told me recently that if anyone ever deserved a miracle it was my mother. I told them she already is a miracle, and has always been one.....
Posted on: Sat, 29 Jun 2013 04:05:51 +0000
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