It's All Grace

I look over at his bed. Eleven o'clock and he's awake again. It doesn't matter...he's here. Still here, in spite of the first prognosis almost twenty seven years ago. In contradiction to every calculation, prediction, opinion since then. He still has a purpose, something to give, to teach.

I get up to give the last medication of the night. Waking, working, sleeping. One day runs into the next. Time has it's own flow. Acts of lifting, bathing, feeding, medicating have lost their burden. Now only freedom to slow down, to care remains. And the grace filled love of mother and child. Yes, grace is what I know most these days. Each day, each task's all grace.

Loves his Auntie Ruth!


Remembering That Freedom Isn't Free

Remembering That Freedom Isn't Free
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