Mothering Sunday.

Sometimes we are in the shadows.  Sometimes we are in the light.
 
This is my Mom  She's a Mom round here.  She's my Mom.
 
She is one of the reasons why I started writing this journal originally so that I could track her dementia.  As if we don't know that it is getting worse.  Taking its inexorable course.
 
I spoke at church this morning about the pain that anyone who takes on a mothering role, loving and caring for someone, will undoubtedly experience at some points in the relationship.  With love and caring comes pain and suffering amidst unmistakeable moments of joy and pure happiness.  Those who mother, must expect both.
 
Today we were out as a family for lunch, at a place we know well, but today we had to wait for our table in a part of the restaurant where we hadn't sat before and Mom was very confused and was finding it difficult to smile.
 
This portrait makes me want to weep.  But I have to show it to you.  So you know.  In the shadows, hoping for some light