Thanks to those of you who have donated on mom’s behalf. While flowers and food are wonderful and appreciated, their house is so tiny and their storage so few that we have quickly run out of room to put things.

Mom is doing a bit better today. We have started using a syringe to put food in to try and get her nurishment. We also give her water the same way. Most often she is sleeping but will break through occasionally with some lucid moments. These we treasure dearly. We ask for continued prayers for her and the family, that she can cross over with peace when God comes calling, and that we’ll all be ready when it comes.

Thanks again to you all for your diligient, unending prayers and support.

Mom awoke this Monday morning more fully aware of her surroundings, and able to communicate on a deep level - with very few words. The words she did say were obvious that she knew she was fast approaching the end. She’s still so worried about us, about Bill, and the unfairness of being taken so soon, and in such a horrific, debilitating way.

My heart aches for this strong powerful woman. I had rather her be too doped up to know how bad off she is. Now this morning dawns and she knows just how much she has lost of her former self. I pray that God can comfort her when she’s so angry at being taken down like this. I pray that he decides to just do this more swiftly. I can’t imagine that she’s in any condition to learn any more lessons or listen to him any better. Why can they not just have that conversation on the other side?

She’s madder than hell at the strength she’s lost. The once powerful right arm that could bowl with a 16 pound ball all night, or sling cast after cast all day is giving out on her. She hates being this way. She wanted to go out the way she lived her life, full speed.

I look around at all her stuff, her unfinished projects and reminence about my own. What does it all mean, really? It only means something to you, no one else, not in the same way. None of this stuff - work, cars, projects - mean anything in the end. Even the relationships you have with other people really don’t mean much either. Not when it all boils down to that one final moment. At that time, there’s only one thing that matters. What kind of relationship did you build with God?

It’s about to become the most important thing ever.

My mom loves you guys. It dawns on me how different we each know her, the special parts of herself that she shared with each of us; how delicate our memories all intertwine. My mom’s life with us all is like a rubicks cube. Complicated, varied, yet all a part of the same puzzle.

She took on the world with gusto, everyday a challenge to be met head on.  She used to barrel race back when she was young. Rode the fastest horse she could find (Cha-Cha, Charger and Cricket) and loved every minute of it. She would water ski in the bayou’s of south Texas dodging alligators, snakes and cypress stumps with her daddy at the helm of the boat. She rode bulls too, back before they allowed girls to do so, just to show the guys she could. She drove fast cars, rode fast horses and eventually got the fastest boats. In spirit she was 10 feet tall and bullet proof.

In her middle life she was an artist. She painted some fantastic ocean scenes. I own all the originals. Her most breathtaking one is hanging in my bedroom, it’s colors an assortment of blues, teals, browns, and oranges. I think it was her best ever, and I’m proud to have it. Perhaps they were never oceans scenes at all, but instead the future skies over Lake Fork. Whatever the case, she was talented and should have kept it up.

She started fishing later in life, about the age I am now. She read every book, magazine, paper, article, talked to every guide, fished every cove, and learned everything she could. She appeared on the fishing scene at Fork during it’s heyday and ran a good shop.  She insisted on teaching other women the joy of the outdoors, and yet there’s still so few of us old gals running boats at 80 mph across the top of the water like she did. That life was hard on an old red-headed whitey but she loved every second out on the water, even on those frigid cold days when most intelligent souls were huddled around a heated recliner.

She retired from that life to find a different kind of race. A race towards her Master. The ride was a lot shorter than we thought but it was no different than the others. Full steam ahead, full of gusto. She loved her God and always has. The one constant in her life, the only one to never leave her. She met her Sonshine sisters at work, and she loves each of them with the same fierce passion she does us kids, and each of the friends she’s met along the way. She loves loyally. She loves deeply. She loves us all.

God have mercy on this fighting spirit. Draw her closer to you and comfort her during these last hours. My mom is a fighter, tough as nails, loyal to a fault, strong and so very determined. Please hold her hand and let her know it’s okay to go, that the fight can be won in heaven, not here. She’s so very ill, so labored, so pained. Her body is giving out, and if she were more aware, she’d be mad as hell. She hates weakness, she never wants to be seen as weak. This body of hers is now an enemy and she’s battling against it.

My mother’s body is nearly gone. The person she was has forever vanished. I thank God for giving her to me, to be her child. To learn to be tough, strong and courageous no matter what, to stand and fight for the just cause, to tackle adventures head on, to never look back with regret, to keep moving forward. My mom was not perfect, but she was perfect for me. Thank you God for this last year. I’ve never had a better friend.

To all who have visited and left comments, my apologies for not posting them. The comments are moderated to keep out the spammers (and there are tons!) and I have not been looking at that part until today.

Bill was out on the internet over the weekend looking for some good fishing pictures of mom and ran across several forums of fishermen sending out their prayers. We thank you so much for your continued prayer vigil for us and Mom. She is one tough cookie as you all know and very little can put a stop to her. This cancer is trying to defeat her but her while her body is giving out her strong determination and will is keeping her mind sharp. The pain medication is taking its toll on her little frame, and it probably won’t be long until the cancer wins. She is off all chemo, and won’t be going back for tests or blood work, or the like. This is it.

My Mom has lived her life fighting and determined to win, to do her best, to be all that she could be. It just really makes her mad that she can’t win this fight. She hates to lose.

I know that once she’s in God’s hands that he’ll have a mighty warrior on his side to do all that needs doing. She rarely rested in her human body, I can only imagine how powerful she will be with wings. As Bill always says, she’s a nuclear powered hummingbird.

I will try to be more vigilent in keeping the site updated. My apologies for the lack of info. Mom was supposed to use this blog to post her thoughts during this past year. She’s just too private to do that. Love to all…