Being a Mom Doesn't Get Easier

I always thought that when my kids grew up, being a Mom would get easier.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

The issues get more complicated and the "Momisims" don't work quite as well.

Hugs and kisses can't make the hurt go away, and milk and cookies don't bring the smiles back on the face.  And when they walk out the door, you know they won't be back in an hour or so with grass stained pants and mud in their hair.

My grown son has just gone through kidney cancer.  According to the reports he is in the "curative" (if that is a word) stage, since the cancer was contained in the kidney that was removed and the "margins were negative."

I sat next to him after his surgery, trying to remember what I have learned over the years about how to get in and out of the hospital bed, how to hug the pillow over your stomach when you cough or sneeze, and how not to hover too much.  (Wasn't real good at that last one.)

I sat next to him as he received the pathology report over the phone a few days later.  I watched him as he started to shake and tears spring to his eyes as he was told that it was, as expected, cancer.  I held his hand and watched him quietly come to terms with what he had just heard.

I know from experience that when you hear that "C" word, all senses shut down and nothing else can penetrate the white hot fear that takes over your body.

He could not focus on the fact that he would not have to go through any of the horrible treatments that most cancer survivors must, or the fact that all of the other tests were normal.  That was my job.  My job was to repeat and repeat the good news. Repeat again and again, as I had done when he was a child, that the fear will abate, and the realization that he was going to be ok would sink in. 

That's what Moms do, we hug, cry and try to kiss away the monsters, bake brownies, even spend the $5.00 on the Caramel Macchiato at Starbucks; whatever it takes. 

But most of all, we Moms spend a lot of time praying.