by Chris Raymond

Up until my mom was 93-1/2 years old she was pretty much the same funny, bright, caring, and engaged woman she always had been, a teensy bit slower in movement but still mom. Living in the same house that she had for 25 years, fixing her own meals, getting dressed and out for bridge and church. But by her 94^th birthday it was different: hit and miss eating, same with personal care, and care-less about so many things. Still feisty, but different. Like a light got dimmer. And that just isn’t my bright mom!

So my sisters and I decided, with mom reluctantly going along with it, that a senior independent living apartment would be a helpful support. Except it was just the opposite – the new activities, new people, new routine for everything made mom uber-anxious. And she resisted leaving her apartment even for meals and wanted no one except family members to come inside.

The past several months have been a rollercoaster of emotions as I watched my mom struggle. All I wanted for her was to feel safe and surrounded by love.

Taking on responsibility for decision-making in her life was now my life, from the myriad little details of moving her to a new apartment, to the daily visits and navigation of a new life-routine, to the decision (and those details) to sell her house. What should be simple project lists actually became reminders that my mom wasn’t the same mom anymore. So the to-do lists became weighted with incredible heaviness for me.

Every night after only a few hours sleep I would wake up with details I simply HAD to remember right then! I would even get up and write new sticky-notes to put on a big wall chart next to my desk. It wasn’t “worry” that kept me awake, it was the weight of the nonstop data.

Thankfully, there is a family village – two sisters and a husband – to share in project lists. So I am definitely not alone. But what is it about the nighttime that makes you *think* you are all alone?

The only moments of peace I could muster in the night, which occasionally would result in another hour of sleep, was to persistently remind myself I AM NOT ALONE! Deep, meditative prayer focused on the comfort and presence of the divine, no matter what the situation, helped me.

Each night I would push the datastream of random thoughts aside so that I could focus on a fresh idea about the divine – how much She loves me, how She gives me inspiration to meet any challenge, how She is as close to me as breathing with new ideas for the next day. The next day I trust to Her care – because the ever-present divine is already there, prepared and waiting for me with practical answers to that day’s issues.

In the dark night this focus on the divine knowing, to the exclusion of my clamoring human data, was hard at first. With practice – and insistence – it has become easier to recognize when I am drifting into random factoids and snap back into calming thoughts of Love’s love for me. This has helped me feel safe and peaceful for the night, accepting that the next day I would know what to do. Just for that day.

It was on one day that it was clear to me Mom should be in a more supportive living environment. “That’s it,” I said to myself, “that is where she needs to be.” Quickly, all was arranged. And it has proved to be a wonderful new home for my mom.

There are still many sticky-notes on the big wall chart next to my desk. Lots of details to follow through on. But my nights are peaceful. This summer I have seen how a spiritually focused night leads to a good next day.