relaxing

that’s what i’m trying to do right now… relax. funny. i just wrote an entire blog on relaxing and lost it… it disappeared into the abyss we call the internet, and is floating around somewhere for someone to stumble upon some day. oh well.

┬áironic, that it’s 2:10 am and i’m writing to you about my futile attempts to relax… to take in the christmas season. to be merry.

who am i to think the world will stop because i take time to enjoy walks in the crunchy snow with my sisters, because i sip baileys and coffee with my mother in law or watch a movie with my husband?

it’s times like these that i need to shake my young head, look at my hands, and remember i’m human. i’m so fleeting. i’m a ‘blip’… here today, gone tomorrow. Lord, help me understand my purpose and live it to the fullest.

so we’re in alberta right now, soaking up precious moments with trent’s family before plunging back into work… it’s been blissful. i’m looking forward to snowboarding this coming weekend at blue mountain, and returning to my desk where i’ll furiously attempt to type at my tired keyboard in hopes that one day history will bear my fingerprints upon her brow.

until then, i’ll attempt to relax. and have one more glass of egg nog.

(for those of you interested, check out my new work website: www.emilywierenga.com)

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i really want to see you

my mother leaves the sweetest phone messages. with her soft-spoken british accent, frequent pauses and slow reflection, she nearly makes me cry.

whenever i doubt myself, i simply have to replay one of her messages . they always let me know i’m loved.

“emily… are you coming over today?… i really want to see you… this is mom.”

the other day: “emily, can you come and watch mary poppins with me?… i hope so…”

“emily, i was wondering if you could dye my hair for me. thanks so much…. love you… bye…”

then there are those that make me spill over with laughter.

“emily, dad’s saying i should take my pills. i have no intention of doing so…. call me later… mom.”

i’m not sure at what point we went from being mother and daughter to being close friends, but the more i hang out with her the more attached i become.

the problem is, no matter how hard i try to save those messages, they’re automatically deleted after 9 days.

and no matter how hard i try to save mom…

remembering

waterloo-art-show-031.jpgthe past two weeks have made me remember who mom was.

dropping by her house after my morning run, she’d be standing there, smiling at me as i unwrapped my snowy layers. then she’d pit-patter away to make me a ‘hot cuppa’ and we’d sit and chat.

it was lovely. like i had my ‘old’ mother back with me. since my arrival last may, i haven’t seen her this way… it made me miss who she used to be, before It came.

a couple of days ago, I saw It return … It came in baby steps. she wasn’t her usual perky self; i put her to bed — 20 minutes later she bounded out and laughing, came to where i was typing on the computer. “oh good, you’re still here!” she said with her twinkly smile, a little unstable on her feet. i worried — why wasn’t she sleeping? i got her some apple slices and tea, then she went back to sleep. supposedly. 20 minutes after that, she raced into the room again, this time holding her glasses’ case. “watcha doing mom?” i asked, trying to be casual, but sensing Its presence. she just laughed, sat on the couch, smiling. i set up a movie for her. as she sat there staring at the screen, It fully entered the room and her body, rendering her ‘fuzzy’ or ‘in-cognito’ for the next few days.

yesterday i decorated my parents home with christmas supplies we’ve collected over the years; it was all i could do to keep from crying. upstairs my mom was stretched out on her bed, unable to speak or walk, and here were boxes of who she used to be… boxes of the woman i remembered during those two blessed weeks of ‘normalcy.’

i thank God for those two weeks, for the advice she gave and the hot cuppas she made. but in some ways it’s harder now, watching It ravaging her mind.

before, i’d forced myself to accept this as who she was. but now i know she’s somewhere inside, fighting against the force which is rendering her helpless.

i’ll never forget what she told me this past wednesday after coffee break at church… she was having a ‘sad’ day. i asked her what was wrong. looking at me out of blue depths she said, “emily, it’s just taking a so much longer for me to get better than i’d thought.”