she takes my breath away

Last night... someone who always makes me laugh came to see me. Yes, my lovely middle daughter. She is all of 22, married now, & taking on the world in every facet of her life. As we who have been there know, taking on the world can be overwhelming. You spend your whole life growing up, & suddenly, bam! You're there.

She's a nurse, a night nurse on a bustling floor with life or death situations. Oh how I wish I could be a fly on the wall,  (just to see her in action). The excitement would probably cause me to become a patient on her floor. Seeing her saving lives, nurturing very sick patients, consoling families... It truly might be more than my nerves could handle. I would feel so much for her, anticipate the patients' outcomes, be horrified by the procedures. I'm afraid I would go into cardiac arrest.

As I mentioned, she's married now. Her only complaint seems to be that she doesn't get to spend enough time with her beloved. I love to hear her stories. It's the simple things that matter: shrinking your jeans,  finding a snake on a walk, chasing a bug around the apartment, overflowing a pot of boiling macaroni... I delight in her tales.

Her road has not always been easy. She's suffered a major surgery herself with more courage than I'll ever know. Determination has gotten her through so much. Birthdays have always been special in our home. Her's was cursed this year with the news of my diagnosis, not to mention planning a wedding when your Mama is undergoing chemo treatments. All her hopes & dreams now had a rain cloud hovering above, or should I say a storm?

When the storm hit, she ran for cover, not for herself, but for me. She became my interpreter. It's that tender moment, when the daughter becomes the mother. She was stuck in an awful spot: being her mother's nurse. I know some days, I am a difficult patient. I don't have eyes to see things from a medical perspective, & she tirelessly explains things over & over & over. I freak out over the wrong things. I search the internet to find my own diagnosis (her pet peeve for sure). I cry on her shoulder. I share my heart & then some... It's a good thing she's tough.

I remember her childhood as if it were yesterday. As a toddler, she was sick more than she was well. She's always had a sense of humor. She's always been funny. Her love for boys as a teen kept me on my toes. Her compassion for people always touched my heart. She is an example for me in so many ways. She takes my breath away.

This one's for:  Haley