A little off topic but...

I kept asking if anyone reads Blog Posts anymore. Rather than a flat out no, the consensus was that I should write them if they make me feel better. So, here we are. A little off topic, but I'm counting this as part of the ~2K-ish words I should write a day.

Writing 2K words a day feels impossible when ten words barely rolled out of your own mouth that day. Well, consecutive days.

"Hey lady." "I love you." "You need anything?"

Eight words cycling through my lungs all week long. The same words that are left to no verbal response. Just a head nod, or muffled huff if i'm lucky.

You see, having a chronically ill parent feels like you're constantly crying wolf. Like you're singing the same song. It's simpler to live in your head and cry out to God than explain what ailment is plaguing them this time.

For me. This time. Words are plaguing me.

The lack of them.

Never would I have thought my mom wouldn't be able to chew, swallow, let alone speak. I wholeheartedly expected to replay her voicemails over and over years from now. Because I should have another 10-20 years with her, right? Sadly, that's not my reality. The thought really never crossed my mind until the realness of losing her became so prevalent.

I want to write. I want to tell her story. I want to tell stories on her behalf, but I can't find the words.

The words to tell me where to begin without her. Do I start with a question or a phrase? Do I look to the Heavens and ask Him or her where to begin, or do I pick up where I left off? Will I be able to write about love with my heart completely shattered?

All the grants researched, doctors appointments, hair and nail adventures... for what? For my favorite person not to remember me when I walk in the room? For me to put on a brave face in front of the world, just to fall apart in my empty home? No. For me to be thankful for those incomparable memories. The ones that have embedded on my heart.

I don't want to find the words to describe how hurtful and terrifying watching the slow deterioration of your mom from the age of twelve to twenty-nine is. A year ago, I prayed to God for a miracle. To help me get my mom across multiple states to say goodbye to her mother. By myself. With no nurse or assistance. He made that happen.

This year. I prayed to Him again. Asking for my mom's strength back. For her to regain the 30+ pounds lost, her swallowing ability to come back, and if not... help me come to accept the decision He and her make. She's refused the feeding tube while in her right mind, and I've come to respect that. Can I accept it quite yet? No. I just know it's no way to live, nor the way she wants to live.

If you've read this far, thank you. I'm sorry you had to share in my pain. I can't let the words come out of my mouth for the fear of making her loss a reality. She's holding on. I am too. She's fought battles before and beat them, but sheesh. This one really got our asses good.

So if you can. Hug your parent(s) in honor of me and Avis. It's been a decade since I could hug her without a wheelchair being in the way. Send up all the prayers, and don't ask me how I'm doing. I'll lie and tell you I'm fine.

I don't want to accept that I might be losing my Journalista, Fashionista, Photography Icon that spiced up my world. Who fought through Multiple Sclerosis to give me the greatest gift of life. I refuse. She's defined by so much more than a chronic disease. She's my mom.

I'm praying that today, tomorrow, some day soon... she comes back to me, just like my words.

XO,

G. Laveaux