On December 1, 1995, I was released to my mother’s care to recover from successful brain surgery. Now, twenty years later, as I look back on our nine years together, I now realize that we were passengers on different trains arriving at the same depot. Our journeys in life, as if on parallel tracks, had finally converged.
Three weeks before a respiratory crisis sent me to the hospital, Mama and I laid Daddy to rest; my was-band and I were separating. As much as we both denied it, my mother and I needed each other.
On March 10, 2004, she said “See you later”. Only then did my writer’s mind’s-eye see our story as a play-in-the-works. Please take your seats, now, as the drama unfolds.
Lights dim. Curtain rises. Audience awaits. The stage is dark. Suddenly, red and blue spotlights follow two women — mother and daughter — as they enter stage left, stage right, to front and center where they stand side by side within a single, white beam.
Mama wears widow’s black; I, bridal white stained and tattered from countless skirmishes. Mama’s eyes are weak, but her spirit, strong as she continues to care for me until I become the strong one. With steady hands, I become her caregiver, guiding her faltering feet.
This play is no coincidence. The same God who created us placed us on those tracks and in that depot on purpose. He stood at her shoulders when I was born and beside me as I held her hand and awaited her last breath..
And so the story goes. One journey ends. Another one continues.