Her name is Linda

I completely forgot my hair appointment. That was not a happy day. I book 6 weeks out just to get a coveted spot with my friend, Tracy. After the month I have had the gray was even worse than normal. So when Tracy called to see if something was wrong I fell apart. How could I get the wrong day? How could I forgot something so important that had been scheduled for 6 weeks. Today I walk in to get my nails done. I go at the wrong time. Not a problem it is later in the day at least. But I fall apart. This is my first free Saturday baring few exceptions in 4 years I have not gone to my mother's to run her errands, eat lunch or shop. Saturdays have always been my day to spend with my mom but after my father died it became essential. Today, I woke up and realized I had nothing to do. Yes, I had plenty to do but no one to take care of, to eat lunch with, to spend my time caring for and being cared by. I pulled the covers up. Being a former grief counselor I know this is all normal, the sensitivity to sound, last night I couldn't stay in the room while the tv blared out the Thunder game and had to go sit in a dark room with the tv down low. I work with little people who are loud sometimes and at times this week it has been like fingers shrieking across a black board slowly. I know that is normal. I know it is normal to forget things and be confused like when you automatically drive to your mom's on a Wednesday after teaching at UCO because that is what you have done every Wednesday for 4 years, like forgetting to pay the AT&T bill, or going back to check did I really put the garage door down? I know it is normal to lack motivation, the pile of to do papers for my mom's trust continues to grow, I would rather sit and stare off in space while Bart thinks I am watching Duck Dynasty with him. I know the exhaustion of falling asleep last night at 8pm and not waking up til 8am but still feeling completely worn out is normal. I know the nights when I can't fall asleep at all because the last moments of my mom's life keep flashing through my weary brain and keeps me from the bliss of oblivion which comes with rest. I know all this but when I went into the Avon store today and saw my mom's powder and reached for the phone to call to see if she needed any I fell apart. I miss my momma. I drove home in silence with huge crocodile tears streaming down my face over powder. When I reached Bart's side my silent cries turned to heaves. I have held the emotions, the feelings at bay while I returned to work and what appeared to be normalcy. But today the reality comes storming towards me, I have no sweet momma to care for, to love, to hold and have her hold me gently on those days when life is just too hard. And so I cried. I cried for myself. My son calls and I change my voice so he can't hear the hurt and sorrow in my hollow voice. But when the call ends it comes tumbling back. Wallowing in my self pity and grief I try to find solace in helping others. I ask Bart to take me to Wal Greens to buy cereal for Jacob's Cupboard which is on sale. I saw an ad for Captain Crunch and knew the small children would like that much better than plain Cheerios. So I dried the tears and wiped off the mascara which smeared my face and didn't even care if I had lipstick on because the pain was too much. I stood with Bart looking at candy bars to buy for our fund raiser at school when I heard a man scream, "Some one help." I raced out of the aisle and saw a man holding the cashier up by her arm screaming and no one moving. I ran behind the counter and eased her gently down while another kind soul jumped over the counter to help. She recognized the woman and began calling her daughter, another woman called 911 as I grabbed for the woman's wrist using her other limp arm with a watch to count the beats. Her skin was so clammy and so cold. Her pulse was erratic and her body lay still. People were shouting and trying to get help but all I could see was somebody's mother laying there lifeless, not moving and cold. I began patting her cheeks and screaming for her to stay with me. To breathe and hang on. She came around and mumbled, "What happened?" but just as quickly her eyes rolling back and struggling to breathe I felt like I was losing her. The one lady to my side screamed into the phone reaching her daughter and telling her to come quick, the other lady on the other side of the counter telling 911 to hurry she was bad. She began to make choking sounds so I pushed her head back and her mouth open trying desperately to remember my CPR training, frantically trying to find a pulse and a breath. I began to see a faint movement in her neck and a slight rising in her chest. I again began shouting at her to hang on her daughter was on the way. At last the medics arrived, as I began to rattle off statistics, heart rate 80 erratic, skin clammy and cold, slightly responsive at first, not diabetic, no pain, lost consciousness 1 1/2 minutes ago they brushed us aside and began their battle to save this woman's life. Her daughter rushed in we updated her and then stood back to pray. I walked over to my husband and said, "God sure has a way of putting things in perspective." Here I was crying over a mother who had lived a full life and so ready to be with Jesus and here lay a woman fighting for her life and a daughter shaking and questioning why? We all have our battles, our fears and our losses. We never know what lies ahead one moment before us. We never know when we are going to walk in a store looking for cereal on sale that doesn't start until tomorrow and be faced with life changing moments. My prayer today is not for myself but for this daughter and this woman. Linda. Her name is Linda. Pray.