She and I learned how to run the feeding tube machine together. We learned how to give Paul his meds through a huge syringe - we kept a log of his medication schedule - every 4 hours - which of the many bottles he needed to have, which needed to be combined, and which were 8 hour meds or daily ones.
She made her famous cookies. She drew smiley faces on the kids sandwich bags. She drove my kids to school, picked them up from school, helped me cut coupons for groceries . . . pretty much knows how to run things around here. And when she left, every single one of us (including Paul's parents and all of the kids) received a hand written card with a priceless letter from her.
She has been in the trenches with me when I couldn't breathe as I sobbed.
This isn't the first time. She was here for 3 months after my car accident last year. She was here when Paul was in the hospital for cancer surgery years ago. She came when Kaylan was born with health problems.
She's been here for some of my big battles. That lady is not afraid to fight. Her motto seems to be "Pray. Fight. Pray. Fight."
As she goes back home I know I'm stronger for the time she's been here.
My mom wears army boots. Hope my kids can say that about me someday -