The Picture Got Me ....

Today, as I was getting supper ready, I saw my mom's beautiful face on my fridge.  The picture has been there for mos. now and I usually look "past" it so I don't lose it.  But today, as I was looking at the picture, I couldn't stop the tears.  The picture is from April 8th, 2015, the day of my 7th child's birth.  My mom is sitting on the hospital bed with me (yes we are squished together!) holding Ms. Dava.  And my mom has the biggest smile in the picture, she looks just beautiful, content, and happy.  One proud Grandma!  I look at that picture and I just ache to talk to her.  I just ache to see her.  I ache to have her back.  I do talk to her on the phone and see her much more now than I did pre-aneurysm, yet I feel like I haven't seen or talked to my mom in over 10 mos., since that awful day last November.  My heart aches as I see her vibrant face in the picture compared to how she was yesterday when we went shopping.  And well-meaning people say to me "at least she survived the aneurysm."  I can say that seeing mom so confused, not able to walk, struggling to transfer in and out of a car, not having control over her bowels or urine, being paranoid, being angry, insisting her grandchildren are her children, and on and on, is harder than going through the death of dad who was so at peace with everything.  I miss my mom with all my heart.