My Wonderful Mommy

My mommy is the best mother in the whole world, in my opinion. She is talented, kind, loving, and yet willing to correct where needed. I smile ruefully as I look back at the years when I hated the idea of a spanking, and realize how it shaped me into the person I am. I look at all the teenagers of my time, and know that this world needs more mothers who are willing to spank their children, to discipline, to teach right from wrong. And because she was willing to do that, I am the person I am. Thank you, Mommy.

My mommy passed down to me her love of arts and crafts. When I see a blank paper, I have to put a pencil or pen to it; otherwise it sits there and calls to me. I get my abilities to actually do well at it from her, too. She has taught me how to sew, to knit, to draw. She showed us how to cook, to clean, to do everything to the best of our abilities. She taught us of God’s will, His love, and His work. Thank you, Mommy.

But in the last seven years, since an accident, she has been almost completely disabled. Tremors racked her body, making her unable to hold a fork, a spoon, or a glass. Dressing herself became impossible and her balance was so far gone she could not stand properly. Talking was hard and took all her energy – energy she simply did not have while she tried to calm the tremors. All the crafts she had once loved so much were gone. But, yet, she never once gave up. She never blamed God. She never let it define her. She was still Cheryl Eggers. She was still God’s child. She was still MY mommy.

And we loved her, all through the years, even as we fed her, we took over all the house work, and we found small ways to help. Her face lost all emotion. However, we kids never realized, in our hearts, that it was hard. If Mommy needed the help, then it was our job to help her. Because: we love her. She is our mommy. “It is Essential Tremor,” the doctors told us. They tried medication after medication, nothing worked. Herbs, minerals, vitamins – all of them tried, all of them failed. More doctors. “It is Essential Tremor, there is nothing we can do. Not unless you want to try this expensive, experimental surgery.

And suddenly, seven years after all this began, a miracle happened. Not the type that happen with a bolt of lightening, a huge bang. It was the type that cost $18.00 at a pharmacy, and a movement disorder specialist. When mom saw there was a specialist in town, she called to get an appointment. Several months latter, she got in. The doctor looked at her, did a couple simple tests and told my mom, “You have Parkinson’s. Take this pill and come back in a month. We’ll see how you progress.”

She took the pill. She is playing the piano again, dressing herself, standing in place without problems, drinking tea without a straw – and holding the cup herself! She is signing her own name, helping chop pears for canning, cleaning the house, and driving the van. Her face is showing emotion again (at first it looked really funny) and she is practically floating about the house, proclaiming triumphantly, “I can do this again! I can do this! Did you see that?” We loved her when she could do almost nothing. She is our mommy. We love her now, when she can do almost everything again. She is still our mommy. She will ALWAYS be our mommy.

God gave us a miracle. Not the fancy, suddenly nothing is wrong type. But the type you go to your local pharmacy and buy a month’s supply of pills for $18.00. It is, as my Aunt Miriam put it, our $18.00 miracle.
Thank you, Lord.

Mandy