‘You work so hard for us’
Mom’s been getting sicker and weaker (and yet we just got turned down for Medicaid for her again this week. I’m about ready to say her name is Consuela on our next application and see what happens).
So I’ve been picking up some slack around this glorious dump. This after working an awful lot. And after spending Good Friday and Easter working instead of hanging out with her.
Which, I hated to do, because when it has come to my family over the years, you never know which holiday is going to be their last.
The other day, she said, “You work so hard for us.”
And she cried.
She feels so bad that everything falls on me. I count my blessings that I still have most of my health and about half of my spirit left.
And I have my momma. For which I thank God multiple times a day.
I know all the preachers say we can’t tell God what to do, nor beg Him to help us. But rather to be grateful for what we have and especially grateful for what we cannot see.
Doesn’t stop me from arguing with God about my momma’s health and the lack of means to get it fixed. And even when I try the “Thank You for the miracles you’re working in my momma,” I don’t really get any results that way either.
I know you’re supposed to detach yourself from all outcomes, but I can’t. I have to work like a mule to keep the financial ship (there and here) afloat. I just really and truly hope that all this butt-busting and not, say, spending time with my mom can pay off for us.
She understands. I’m glad somebody does. Because I will wrestle with it till my dying day, no doubt.