Last spring I was especially lonesome for my mother. The mother who was ready to manage and take care of all things, with whom I could share my joys and sorrows, who helped me plant tomatoes seedlings and lettuce, tend to flowers, and marvel at the miracles of spring and summer. The mother with whom I sat at services and shed tears of joy while singing a touching song. The mother who always asked me if I had had a good day and saw right away if things had not been good.
Over the past few months, or actually over the past couple of years, that mother has been gradually fading away. There are still glimpses of her left, more on some days than on some others, but by now her memory disorder has invaded such large sections of her brain that our mother-daughter roles have been reversed: I am now the one who helps and takes care. That is how it should be, and I am only too happy to help. But nevertheless, it is a sad and heavy duty.
The worst thing is to see how lonesome and insecure she feels when she has to stay at home by herself in the evening. Yet, it has been wonderful to experience the Heavenly Father’s powerful presence at the times when I have tucked her in and blessed her with the gospel. We both feel good about that, and mother then feels safe to fall asleep in her bed.
The memory disorder has not affected her faith. She often asks for the gospel and also blesses me even when I do not ask for it. She also likes to listen to services, though she does not care to listen to other radio programs.
We both enjoy her one or two weekly visits to my home. She likes to rake up leaves or pet my animals. She does not have the strength to do any activity for a long time, though she loves doing small, simple chores. But it is sad that, half an hour later, she no longer remembers that she visited my home. She may call me and complain about how lonesome she has been all day.
Fortunately, we live so close to each other that I can go and see my mother more than once a day. She turned 85 last June, but she did not want to celebrate her birthday. All deviations from the daily routine make her tired and disoriented.
Mother is praying that she would soon be taken away into the glory of heaven. It is so good to be able to trust that the Heavenly Father knows our sorrows and worries and will give enough strength every day to both the patient and the carer.
Text: Liisa Lilvanen-Pelkonen
Translation: Sirkka-Liisa Leinonen
You will find the original blog post here.
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