This past week has been one of the most difficult of my sobriety. Not in the sense of staying sober; drinking has not even been a fleeting thought. I just have so many things going on in my life, it's hard to keep it all in its proper perspective at times. Of course, my sobriety comes first -- above everything else. It has to or there will be nothing else.
On top of all of my recovery-related activities which include many hours-per-week of various types of service work, my very ill, 83 year old mother continues to consume much of my time and many of my thoughts.
She suffered a major stroke last October and spent 3 weeks in ICU. Since late November, she's been in a rehab nursing center as they have tried to help her regain an ability to eat and speak. After 3 months of intensive therapy, they have done all they can do, with no progress. She will most likely never be able to eat or speak again. Her weight has gone from 105 pounds down to about 80 pounds; receiving her special diabetic nourishment through a feeding tube.
This week I had to put plans into action to move her to a more permanent home. One which provides lifetime skilled nursing care. My sister and I had decided on this home a month ago. On Monday, we move her there. Yesterday as we met with numerous doctors and administrators, she was terrified.
For the first time since her stroke, I saw her cry. I am sure she has done so previously, but not in front of any of us. I tried my best to comfort her and told her that her fear is natural but not necessary. It's a fear of the unknown. She doesn't know what will happen and neither do I. God has brought her this far - for a reason. He is not yet ready for her. At times,I feel so helpless, so powerless. I do my best; I am there for her to sit by her bedside and take care of her business, which is considerable.
I truly believe this is why my HP saw fit to make the things happen that caused me to want to finally become sober. Mom and I have both learned a lot about each other these past 4 months. We've become closer than ever during our nearly 52 years together. Today, I just want to thank my Higher Power and Alcoholics Anonymous for making me a human being who can fly when necessary.
Sometimes you have to take the leap, and build your wings on the way down.