On this day of thankfulness, I have plenty to appreciate. I can think of no better place to begin than this:
There’s a powerful force of good in my life, with blond hair, and a small quiet voice. She has other names, but I call her mom, and she wanders in and out of my chaotic world, draped in peaceful kindness and gentle understanding. She loves her family, especially her grandchildren, and she smiles thoughtfully at rainbows whenever they appear. When I think of her, I think of home, and all the many pieces of my early life that were strategically balanced, and prayerfully arranged, to raise me into today.
I don’t think of kidney disease when I think of my mom and I don’t think of kidney disease when I think of myself. It exists in us both, but only in the furthest silent background. We’ve known for some time about this PCKD that grows and gains, but we’ve never truly concerned ourselves with it, perhaps because my grandmother, who passed it on to us, lived without consequences from the disease, although she had battles of her own to fight. My mom, true to form, has worn this disease well, diligently learning about and caring for the condition. She’s otherwise healthy and for that I am deeply grateful.
I’m grateful for a great many things, in the mom department. There’s a comfortable understanding between us, born from a lifetime of learning and loving each other, and we can talk and laugh about anything we please. We live within lunching distance of each other, and we shop together whenever schedules allow. My kids know her house and her heart as an extension of their own, and watching them interact brings sunshine into my soul. It’s not lost on me, how rare and beautiful these moments of real connection are. They are gems, truly, and I breathe them in, and tuck them away in my heart for keeps.
Lately there’s a cloud over us that threatens to bring a fog of change. My mom’s kidneys are in serious disrepair. We received the news not long ago that she needs a kidney transplant.
A Kidney Transplant
As so often happens in my emotionally incontinent life, the waves of wonderment and grateful upturned breaths, give way again to treacherous thunderings and overwhelming despair. They are two sides of the same coin and as such, they come together, or alone, but never without roots in each other. The fullness that comes from the blooming joy of friendship between my mother and I, leaves ample room for dreary darkness without it. This strife and the sunshine it originates from cannot be substituted or avoided. The pendulum swings from one to the other and I can only strive to find grace in the constant movement from extreme to opposite extreme.
We will face this new challenge as bravely as we can manage. Mom will undergo a slew of tests and procedures in late January to see if she’s a good candidate for transplant, and I will be there. She will start this journey toward renewal with all the encouragement and love we can gather for her, and this nursing degree of mine will have a bigger purpose than I ever expected.
Despite all the worry and uncertainty swirling around me, and perhaps partly because of it, I can see quite clearly the beautiful blessings in my life today. I’m off to visit my family, to share food and laughter with the people I love. I know that every person I encounter has their own trial to navigate, but today as we sit around bountiful tables, perhaps we can set those difficulties aside for a few sweet hours and just be. I will try to remember to look not at the mountain ahead, but into the eyes that smile back at me today. I hope each of you have a day filled with hugs and grateful beauty, and all the turkey gravy your belly can hold. We are so unbelievably blessed.
Love and Thankfulness,
The Glittery Nurse