Communication has been sparse for the last week with momma and she no longer can speak or open her eyes. Daddy and I have had to become mind readers of sorts. Sometimes telling the difference between an anxiety attack and pain is more than a bit difficult. We’re always “on” looking for clues – her facial expressions, picking at her sheets, breathing pattern, leg movement and more. So much more. Never resting. Never relaxed. Remember having your infant who couldn’t tell you why they were unhappy or where it hurt? Exactly.
Saturday night I kissed her forehead and cheek, telling her that I loved her and that I hope she had sweet dreams. She whispered back to me “sweet dreams” and those were the last words my momma spoke to me.
I’ve thought much on the times we’ve had that will be our last and the many first that are yet to come without her. But real fear gripped me last night as those words echoed through my mind repeatedly……terrified that I’ll forget her voice. Is it possible to forget your own momma’s voice?
“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” Psalm 56:3