Just got back from another visit to my mother. Since she had her stroke, I have been to Panama more times that I care to remember. It is not use trying to get out of these visits, they need to happen...period. This last one, thought was different. Something really touched me, made me realized, really, that things are coming to an end.
I have told myself for months now that my mother cannot last forever and that she must be tired. Her quality of life has diminished, but her mind is still clear and sharp...at times. It must not be easy to accept, yet she has kept going. Why? I often wondered. This last trip, planned to coincide with Holy Week, was going to be relaxed. There is always people in town for this celebration. They come from the city to spent these Holy Days traditionally. Participating in church rituals, visiting family. Something about spending Easter Week in a small town....it's so comforting.
Plans are made, but we cannot guarantee that they will work out the way we want. I planned to see my high school friends. Some I have not seen since our graduation and I don't want to tell you how long ago that was! Let me tell you, I went to an all girls school since kindergarten and my graduating class was small....so friendships were very easily made. Mostly the ones that stayed in Panama have kept in touch, get together when they can. So that was the first thing and it was fabulous! Took pictures and talked all night, getting to know each other again...lovely.
Plans for a repeat performance were not to be. The very next day, my sister Laura and I had to rush to our mother. Like the saying goes: if it not one thing, it's your mother! We arrived and things got scary in no time...thankfully, she pulled through again. The rest of the time there was just that: time. Getting her comfortable and getting medication, going to the supermarket and sitting with her, surviving the heat and the humidity, having a drink at sundown on the back porch, going for a car ride when we needed some space.
Then came the part that attracts me: the religious rituals from my childhood, the processions walking along the narrow streets, the people that always come home for these events, the prayers, the family, the images of saints I remember so clearly in their floats surrounded by flowers and the pageantry of these timeless rituals . It has a sense of community that one cannot find just anywhere, a bond that ties us all in a sort of spiritual peace. Love it!
Laura and I went visiting while we waited for the events to start, afterwards, we sat in a small restaurant overlooking the park, taking in the beauty of this small colonial town, in the middle of nowhere! An amazing experience, every time, but this time even more. When the day was over, back home to our reality. It was in this last week, that I just came to accept that things are ending. Life will continue and I will be the eldest in our family....talking about realizing your own mortality. It came absolutely clear and without drama and it came with an absolute peace: this is acceptance.
I have told myself for months now that my mother cannot last forever and that she must be tired. Her quality of life has diminished, but her mind is still clear and sharp...at times. It must not be easy to accept, yet she has kept going. Why? I often wondered. This last trip, planned to coincide with Holy Week, was going to be relaxed. There is always people in town for this celebration. They come from the city to spent these Holy Days traditionally. Participating in church rituals, visiting family. Something about spending Easter Week in a small town....it's so comforting.
Plans are made, but we cannot guarantee that they will work out the way we want. I planned to see my high school friends. Some I have not seen since our graduation and I don't want to tell you how long ago that was! Let me tell you, I went to an all girls school since kindergarten and my graduating class was small....so friendships were very easily made. Mostly the ones that stayed in Panama have kept in touch, get together when they can. So that was the first thing and it was fabulous! Took pictures and talked all night, getting to know each other again...lovely.
Plans for a repeat performance were not to be. The very next day, my sister Laura and I had to rush to our mother. Like the saying goes: if it not one thing, it's your mother! We arrived and things got scary in no time...thankfully, she pulled through again. The rest of the time there was just that: time. Getting her comfortable and getting medication, going to the supermarket and sitting with her, surviving the heat and the humidity, having a drink at sundown on the back porch, going for a car ride when we needed some space.
Then came the part that attracts me: the religious rituals from my childhood, the processions walking along the narrow streets, the people that always come home for these events, the prayers, the family, the images of saints I remember so clearly in their floats surrounded by flowers and the pageantry of these timeless rituals . It has a sense of community that one cannot find just anywhere, a bond that ties us all in a sort of spiritual peace. Love it!
Laura and I went visiting while we waited for the events to start, afterwards, we sat in a small restaurant overlooking the park, taking in the beauty of this small colonial town, in the middle of nowhere! An amazing experience, every time, but this time even more. When the day was over, back home to our reality. It was in this last week, that I just came to accept that things are ending. Life will continue and I will be the eldest in our family....talking about realizing your own mortality. It came absolutely clear and without drama and it came with an absolute peace: this is acceptance.
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