Labor

It was so hot today. Sticky humidity clinging to us as we sat in the backyard doing paperwork. Paperwork for help, paperwork for Aging and Disability, and paperwork for neighborhood help. Exact boxes to check and lines to sign and date. Again and again.

So hot as we sat there, the colorful fuchsia phlox, the swaying pines all bearing witness to our sweat and our work in the shade.

How I longed to go to the beach. But duty kept me working because of the practical outcome of all the pages, the boxes and the need.

My mother. Alternately anxious and engaged, then anxious again. I look at her thin arms, her lined face and sink back into memory... I say to her. "I'll bet that time you were pregnant with me 58 years ago must have been sweaty and tough if it was as hot as this." She shrugs and says.."My pregnancies were easy, they didn't bother me."
And onto the next task of filling out papers and checking bank statements.

It is not easy to be with her when she is anxious. She says " Fill my void." I hold her hand. Just as she labored and birthed me decades ago, now I labor with her and hold her hand through the tough moments. It is not easy. Her difficult inner moments manifest and she can't be left alone. Anxious, anxious, anxious. Then a peaceful moment comes and her smile shines........like the sun breaking through clouds.

I hold her hand and labor through the difficult moments...waiting to birth happy moments of relief and serenity...even fleeting.

Laboring we journey on. I hold her hand as she journeys and labors through the difficult travail and uncertain inner terrain of old age. We labor on.
I hold her hand.