(Sunrise at my mother's house)
I'm back from my little jaunt to my mother's house. John decided to take a different way to our hometown and the scenery was beautiful. There were huge pine trees that towered on both sides of the road, and I could almost imagine their wonderful and comforting scent. The bright yellow hay bales lying in fields were a contrast to the sapphire colored sky; the whole thing looked like a calender page for an autumn month.
We passed through several small farming communities along the way, and I have to say that they facinated me. One community in particular caught my attention. We stopped at a red light, and by the side of the road, there was an old weather-beaten wooden general store. The screen door was rusty, and had several haphazard patch jobs on it. By the front door or the store sat an old man in a rocking chair. A battered staw hat, stained with sweat, was pushed to the back of his head, revealing a patch of thinning gray hair. The old man wore denium overalls that had seen better times. Our eyes met and he smiled, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth. I smiled, and waved back at him happily. I couldn't help but wonder what his "story" was, and what the history behind the community was. Before I started writing, I never wondered such things.
I wish I could say that I got the rest and relaxation this weekend that I sought, but I didn't; far from it. On the first night I was at home, my mother revealed to me that she was having open heart surgery. She's 69 years old, and is plagued with all sorts of health problems. I'm scared; I turn 35 this week, and I still feel as helpless as a child. I just can't lose my mom.
This whole weekend I cleaned for her, did laundry, cooked. . .anything I could think of to make things easier for her. As I've said before, we raise Quarter Horses; last weekend two foals were born. When I checked the horses yesterday, a foal was missing. I didn't want to tell Mama, but I had to. It broke her heart. We walked the entire pasture, and couldn't find a body. Earlier that day I heard a cougar screaming; I think the cat got the foal.
Please pray for my mom, she really needs it.
1 comment:
Prayers are on the way, though I'll venture to say your mother will most likely do fine. Heart surgery is not as scary as it was years ago. Much more routine. My father had a stent put in last year and my college roomie had a quadruple bypass this past March. He was only 52, my age. Yikes!
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