Chime Music

Today I spent the morning selecting the music for the handchime choir. While I sort through books of music, Mom is on my heart and mind and I slide in and out of prayer for her. I know she will be OK, but I hate for her to have to go through such stuff. I know she felt the same way for me every time I faced a health challenge.

Certainly during my cancer treatments. Especially the first one when I was so far from her. That was a large part of the reason I moved back to the east coast. To be closer to Mom. There were other times I had health challenges when she was there for me. Lots of them.

I still remember when I fractured a vertebrae in my back during my seventh grade year. I had to lie flat on my back on a board with this tight brace around my middle. I couldn't get up to eat or anything. That was back in the dark ages and Mom would make excuses to wander through my room while she was taking care of babies and doing housework and laundry, making sure I was doing alright.

She even snuck the family radio up to my room so I could listen to music during the day. What a tender heart she has. I suspect I got extra helpings of desserts and other goodies solely because I was stuck up there and had no escape. It wasn't so bad really. In a large family there is always somebody to talk to.

But Mom was the one who felt my pain. It came out in little ways. She would wash my face with a cool cloth, trying to make me feel less tired and worn. She would read me stories and sneak me cupcakes and stick dandelions in a paper cup on my window sill.

How wonderful it was to have a compatriot who was always there when everyone else got tired of being with the cripple. She seemed to show up at the exact moment when I was so bored I was on the verge of tears, always with a diversion, and activity, something to help wile away the long hours.

Its not unlike the melody of sweet chimes playing in the breeze, having someone in your corner. I smile as I pick the December piece. Lo How A Rose E'er Blooming. Yes, its like having a December rose quietly radiating beauty in your life to have such a thoughtful tenderhearted Mom. I must give her a big hug next time I see her to thank her for all those times when she held me together through some crisis or another. Hang in there, Mom.