Pentecost Sunday

My mother received a call at 6:50 am this morning. My first thought was, "who would call at such an hour?" as I staggered to get the phone for her. While she was talking, I put the coffee on. Soon I heard words from my mother, "oh that's terrible. I am so sorry." At first I thought it was another elderly person calling saying that someone was ill or had died.
Then I heard her say, "and you say the scriptures will be read in Yoruba? And you have to miss that?"
When mom got off the phone, she said, "my friend has to work at the hospital this morning and can't go to church. And they will be reading the scriptures in her own language in honour of Pentecost Sunday. It is so sad she has to miss it."

I am moved by the fact that my mother would love a phone call at this hour from someone a very long way from home, from someone who just wanted to go to church to hear the scripture read in her own language, but cannot go...and that this woman knew my mother would be available for a "mom moment of comfort."

I give thanks for all those that have mothered me in the past when I was a long way from these southern states of America and needed a mom-moment. What a world we live in and how special it is when those that have lived and are living this global nomadic life are there for each other.

"Gotta go..." mom is on the phone calling First Baptist Church Washington,DC giving her Pentecost greetings. When she lived there she started the Pentecost Sunday serivce. She's telling them to remember to get the flags of the nations out!"

Girls Weekend

My sister and I decided we would have a girls weekend to celebrate our mother and take time to tell her how much we love her. Friday night I cooked a special dinner, lit the candles and loaded up her favourite music. We did the memory lane a little and then retired to the porch for apple pie and ice cream...then stayed up and talked until one am like college girls! Knowing she has brain cancer, mom seems to want to leave no stone unturned when it comes to saying what she wants/needs to say.
This morning my sister brought in homemade pumpkin muffins accompanied by hazelnut coffee. A very good way to start the day, complete with sunshine and carolina pines in view. Then we were off to a nearby shop. Mom purchased a beautiful formal gown and very happy with that purchase she really got into the shopping...and we loved the Sister's (that's the name!)dress shop here in Lumberton. Beautiful lamps, mirrors, splendid dressing rooms make this a wonderful shopping experience. I tucked behind a dressing room door for a tear or two, briefly thinking that this could very well be our last shopping trip together, but took a firm grip of my very non-helpful to the shopping experience emotions. There is no point in thinking like this! With a smile firmly back on my face at the joy of how beautiful mom looked in that new dress, we headed home. Mom is resting before we head out to her favourite oyster restaurant this evening. What a special time! We are cherishing every moment.

Going Home

I haven't written in a very long time, due my doing a partical re-entry to my country (but not state of origin), and my mother not being well. My husband and I were due to be in Florida for three months. He was happily adjusting to being an Englishman in the Sunshine State and I was thoroughly enjoying sunshine after an English grey winter. Then the call came. "Your mother is seriously ill, " I was told; and we discussed heading up to a small town in North Carolina where she resides in "assisted living." North Carolina is deep-south for those of you who wonder about the "North" in North Carolina. After a long walk and talk on the beach I decided I would go alone to spend a little time with my mother. You just about need another passport to head to my mother's home, and I didn't want to do a bi-cultural trip when my mother needed undiluted southern ways. I needed to not be a cultural translator for once. I will teach this old style southern way of dying to my half-English/half-American children as it is part of their heritage. I give thanks to my supportive husband as I figure out how to do this next stage of life in the global mix of international living.In this blog I look to process all that is happening as my mother prepares as only a southern lady could for her final transition...her amazing "going home" to see the king of kings. No passport required.