I was twelve years old sitting with my Nana outside the courtroom while my parents hashed out who would take me home permanently. My ulcer ridden stomach tied up in knots wondering if my father who owned a radio station, read me Winnie the Pooh every night, did the grocery shopping, and made my lunches for school, or my alcoholic, manic depressed mother who was afraid to leave our house.
I can still see my mother’s lawyer walking toward me guilt ridden, bending down in front of me, “Your mom needs you to take care of her.”
“Take care of her,” I thought, “then who will take care of me?”
From that moment on I was the one that helped put my mother into bed after passing out on the floor, and the one who ran into her room to catch her just before jumping off our Miami highrise balcony.
Through my teenage years my mother’s compulsion for drinking shifted to a compulsion into Eastern Mysticism. I moved out after graduating at 17 when her guru moved in. While I moved to Flagstaff, Arizona and found healing in a loving God who concored hell and death so I could live a life of peace and joy. My mother was astro projecting and following spirit guides that told her if she didn’t follow their guidance completely they had the power to take her life.
I was going to a church that became more like a family, helping me to get into college, balance a check book, and even how to cook green chilli and homemade tortillas. It was during these times in my life I met my husband and was able to tell the news to my mother. She was ecstatic, and immediately came to visit.
Sunday morning was the best day of my life. My mother dressed in white linen sitting next to me holding my hand in church. Could life get any better than this healing moment. God from heaven must have been smiling down on me “Oh yes it can, just you wait.” Because at that moment in time my pastor (the one who is now in Africa) turned mid-sentence in his sermon and began to stare right into my mother’s eyes. Then he started walking right toward her, as he reached out his hand to her, I kid you not. I have never seen him do this before, and to my knowledge he has never done it since. He asked her name and if he could speak to her. the first thing he told her was, “You put on a good front don’t you? You came out here pretending to have your life all together and really the spirits you serve are trying to kill you and you came out here to say goodbye to your child.” Then he proceeded to ask if he could pray for her and she asked God to forgive her of all of her past mistakes, and give her a second chance to live for Him.
That day her spirit was birthed and she became a different person. She moved from Florida to Arizona, and our relationship began to heal. She transformed into the mother I never even knew existed. She became my best friend. She was the best grandmother to my three children, spoiling them with huge cakes, cookies, and hugs. But her new nature didn’t stop with our family. My mother spoke love to everyone she met. I was constantly searching for her in a store to find her praying with someone or hugging a crying stranger. Broken woman began literally flocking to her for love and guidance. She felt God calling her to start a daycare for low income families in Phoenix. The day care grew so large she had to buy a school to house all the children and a church that was connected to minister to the parents. Our pastor and his family eventually moved to minister there until they recently became missionaries at an orphanage in Africa.
The lawyer was wrong that day he told me I needed to take care of my mother, God was taking care of us the whole time.
My mother has taught me the most valuable lesson I know: Love is more powerful than all the brokenness this messed up world has to offer. And no matter how broken we are God can fix us.
I love you mom. . .Happy Mother’s Day. . .Give a hug to God for me.