A Mother's Love

A Mother’s Love

It is a law of nature that few forces on this earth are as powerful as the love of a mother for her child.

It doesn’t matter how old the child is- the child can be an infant, taking his first breath, a four year old who needs to be held, a teenager who needs her mother in times of sickness.

And, yes, even older- even forty or fifty.

And it is said that mothers will do incredible, impossible things to help their children-

They will walk through fire, think nothing of getting on a plane, do all in their power.

I recently witnessed this power in my own mother, though it was not directed at me,

But at her oldest and first born son. She told me she would not have done this surgery, or gone through this much pain if it hadn’t been for the fact that she felt the need to help this adult, who is still her child and is still her child fighting a disease he won’t acknowledge.

But despite that, she will help him still.

And in that moment, I knew- I knew that my mother had done the same for me.

 I learned that neither heaven or hell or any actions could ever remove this love.

No matter what we do, she loves us.

Even when she shouldn’t, even though others give up, she loves us.

In that one moment, I knew one thing for sure- we will be ok.

And I prayed that my brother will come to realize how fortunate he is.

Favorite Poems

Things have been a little crazy in my life lately- well more than usual. At times, I find myself remembering poems- two in particular have been running through my head lately, so I thought I would share them with you.

Holy Sonnet XIV by John Donne

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me. 

From http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/sonnet14.php

The other poem is by Rudyard Kipling. Different time period, but for some reason both poems seem to give me comfort that it is hard to find elsewhere.

IF by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!  From:http://www.everypoet.com/archive/poetry/Rudyard_Kipling/kipling_if.htm

Headache and Migraine Blog Carnival

The June edition of the Headache and Migraine Blog Carnival is up at http://somebodyhealme.dianalee.net/. Read, learn, enjoy!

Poem: Losing a battle

I am losing the battle.

I try to stand and fight, but I fall again.

The enemy comes closer- I can feel the heat of his fiery breath.

Slowly he advances as I scramble for a weapon,

But there are no weapons near by- my sword is broken

And all the potions that keep this enemy at bay are scattered on the sand

I can do nothing except try to stand and face the enemy.

But I fall again, and again, and again,

I fear that all is lost- he is closing in for the kill

And for a moment, I want to surrender to it- to stop this pain, to sleep, to lay down my arms and rest at last, but I can’t.

I see something glimmer in the sand- buried, but within reach.

I it out and find the golden sign that conquers all.

I am able to stand again. I hit the foe. He backs down for now.

But this battle is not over. It will never end. I only know that, with the sign,

With that great sign that conquers all, just as Constantine did at Milvian Bridge, I will prevail.