Dreams

Last night I dreamt my mom said two words.  I really don't know how to not hate the world.  I miss her all the time.  Of course I love my ALS mom.  But I'd rather be the one with ALS.  I'd trade places with her tomorrow.  She doesn't deserve any of this.  Not one single second of it.  

I miss her so much

It hurts so badly all the time.  I'm so selfish though.  She's the one trapped in the depths of ALS hell.  I miss her so much.  Sometimes I wonder if she hates me for not knowing what she needs or wants.  I HATE ALS.  And I'm beginning to hate myself. 

Church with Momma

Periodically I watch Sunday service with my mom.  She went to church almost every single Sunday - even when she couldn't barely walk. She stopped when she became completely wheelchair bound.  For the past year and a half she's watched from home.  I often wonder what she's thinking when she's watching.  Is she angry? At peace?  

I Wish

I wish I could hear her voice.  I wish she could hug me.  I wish she could watch my kids grow up beyond the walls of her bedroom.  I wish this pain would stop.  I wish she didn't know the evil trapped in her body.  I wish it were me and not her. 

Don't Know How to Daughter

My mom loved going to church.  She was dedicated and faithful in her attendance.  While my faith is weak, hers has remained strong.  Now she has to watch service from home.  This morning we watched service together.  Staring at the TV I'm looking at all the Easter lilies scattered beautifully around the alter, and it hits me that I really don't know how to daughter.  I should've had an Easter lily on the alter in her honor.  I didn't even think about doing so until I watched the service.   I so wish I were like my mom.  She would've had lilies for me if the situation were reverse. 

I Suck

On the weekends my mom and I used to stay up and watch TV together.  Lots of Diagnosis Murder.  Little Becca would stay up, too.  We'd fall asleep in our clothes and at some point I'd wake up, change, and mosey on to bed.  My mom would wake up, take a shower, and then mosey.  She didn't like to go to bed without showering first if she could help it.  Sometimes this would be at 2 am.  She'd awake the next morning as if she'd gotten a full night's rest.  There isn't a time I can remember my mom not ever being superwoman, even when I was upset with her for her rules or not understanding me.  And while we talked about so many things once I became a mother there was so much we didn't have to say.  We just could exist in a room together and understand.  Now I don't know how to exist in a room with my mom.  God I hate ALS.  And I hate that I suck at knowing how to exist with her now.

I Cry. A lot.

I cry. A lot. Every day just about. Always in the quiet of my privacy.  As CS Lewis said, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."  There will always be life before ALS and life with ALS.  I'd gladly go back to some of my darkest days before ALS and live in those days forever if it meant my mom never had to know a second of what this wretched disease is like.  I yearn for her always.  Her laugh.  Her fussing.  Her wisdom.  Her voice.  I cry. A lot.