No.
I do not see light at the end... I do not see the "end"...
I do not, in fact, see a glimmer of light at the end of this tunnel I am in...
My little momma and I took a ROAD TRIP to see her sister, my darlin' auntie. It was a trip that proved to be an eye opener of such great magnitude my heart, my mind is only just beginning to understand.
These girls: Aunt Mary on my shoulder, Momma on the right - these wild, little girls chatted and giggled and playfully teased each other with the comfortable familiarity of a favorite pair of shoes-now-become-work-shoes-because-they're-much-too-comfy-to-toss...
"Guess what today is?!"
(In unison...)
"It's Mom's birthday!"
The OTHER one...15 minutes later...
"Guess what today is?!"
(In unison...)
"It's Mom's birthday!"
"You know, I hurt my hip"
"I know. How's it feeling? Does it hurt bad?"
"It doesn't hurt. But it's sore"
"Do you think you'll drive soon?" (Momma has been told repeatedly her sis will NEVER drive again...)
"I miss getting around. I can't wait to 'motate' !"
"You know, Aunt Mary, with the memory that you've said 'goes blank', you won't be able to drive anymore, but I surely can chauffeur you!"
"Yes, honey, my memory is bad. I've got memory problems... You know, I hurt my hip"
"I know, sis. How's it feeling? Does it hurt bad?"
"It doesn't hurt. But it's sore"... and so on...
These two girls are traveling a parallel-memory-universe; each happily recalling detailed sections of shared history with joyful chat and an occassional simultaneous outburst of slit-eyed-laugh-till-you-cry (or pee). Each forgetting 90% of the present - but retaining opposite parts of it - enough to create such confusing present tense dialogue - densely splattered with times that, in normal conversation, would require a response, but with these two is met with that thick-deafening-silence that accompanies not having a clue what was said - the big TOOTHY GRIN BLANK STARE that is only broken by the phrase " and everything" if not 100, then surely 300 times a day...
"Sis, I really love that doctor. He looked at your hip and got you into that hospital and they didn't even have a room and he got you in there and took really good care of you"
(smile....................................................................................................................
..................................................................................)
"and everything..."
If it wasn't so cute it would make me bawl like a baby.
Actually, it has.
But, ultimately, what I'm learning as an "almost-52-year-oldster" - what I'm learning FROM these girls: Life is a GIFT! Be grateful for each breath, for each moment - and each moment shared with another human being, for there is where treasure is found...
Glimmer? NO.
I do, however, see bolting rays of light in - yes, within- this long, dark tunnel. Light that warmly embraces those who are swept up in the spiral; who are along this oft emotional, sometimes heavy journey.
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